


To the Moon and Back

by Animationfantic



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Death Glare - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Guilt Trip, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Mild Language, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2018-10-08 09:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10383270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animationfantic/pseuds/Animationfantic
Summary: It's a race! And nothing's going well. Hater's excited, Peepers is losing confidence, and things aren't looking too good as the finish line approaches. Sequel to “Dominator’s Game.”





	1. Chapter 1

Peepers curled up on Hater’s chest, already half-asleep. Hater hummed absently, scratching Peepers’ back and flipping through the channels. The hall was abandoned, empty and dark. They were sprawled out on the throne, watching a little TV before going to bed. Peepers yawned and stretched lazily. He snuggled down deeper in Hater’s cloak, comforted by his familiar scent. Captain Tim was off somewhere, probably chasing some unfortunate troops.

Typical Saturday night.

Chin in a hand, Hater stared at the screen through glazed eyes. “There’s nothing good on!” he griped.

“You’re flipping through the channels too fast,” Peepers sighed.

“Shut up, Peepers. My remote, my TV!”

Peepers lovingly rolled his eye. _My Hater_ , he thought.

Hater deliberately skimmed the channels even faster, until the TV screen turned into a flickering blur of flashing lights.

“Stop that!” Peepers groaned.

“Huh?” Hater caught Peepers rubbing at his eye. “Oh, yeah! Bright lights hurt. Sorry, buddy.”

Peepers rubbed at his eyelids until the lights popping across his vision went away. “I swear sometimes you do that on purpose,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Look, it was an accident,” Hater said, a little defensively. His voice softened. “You all right?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Peepers said. “Can we just settle on a channel before I go completely blind?”

Hater grinned sheepishly. Settling back across Hater’s broad chest, Peepers rubbed one of his horns as the skeleton looked for something to watch.

“-live cobra-bear wrestling-”

Hater sat bolt upright. “All right! Let’s watch this!”

“-will return after these messages.”

“Boo!” Hater hissed at the TV. 

Peepers lost his grip and flopped into Hater’s lap. He stared upside-down at the ceiling and sighed.  _He's an idiot. But he's my idiot._

“Stupid commercials,” Hater grumbled.

He slumped low in the throne, and Peepers hastily abandoned his lap for the chair arm. The skeleton scowled at the TV. Peepers had to smile. Reaching out, Peepers cuffed him lightly under the chin. “You’re such a baby,” he laughed. “It’ll be right back, five minutes, tops.”

“Aw, what? Five minutes? That’s practically forever!” 

Hater almost slid to the floor. Their eyes were level now.

“Wanna get some snacks?” Peepers offered. “It’ll be back on when we’re done.”

“Nah, I’m comfy,” Hater mumbled into his hood.

Peepers snorted. “Yeah, you look it. Come on, gimme your hand.”

Sighing heavily, Hater offered a glove. Grunting, Peepers heaved him upright. "That better?" Hater muttered something under his breath and Peepers laughed. Leaning in close, he kissed the bony cheek. “What am I gonna do with you?”

The skeleton's face flushed bright green. Peepers loved that. Hater might act big and tough, but a quick kiss could turn him into a pile of marshmallow. He came _this_ close to kissing Hater again, but a sudden, aggressive shout made him jump.

_“Hey, you!”_

Peepers yelped. He would’ve fallen again, but Hater caught him. Safe in the skeleton’s arms, Peepers glowered at the TV. It was a new commercial. A massive ship revved past, smoke flying from its exhaust. The screen was full of flames.

 _“Are you stuck sitting at home with nothing to do?”_   the voice demanded.

Hater opened his mouth.

“Don’t answer that,” Peepers growled warningly.

 _“Wanna spice up your humdrum routine?”_ the commercial went on, a little threateningly. _“Enter the Intergalatix Road Race!”_

Peepers frowned. _That’s just bad grammar._

But Hater didn’t seem to think so. There was a feverish glint in his green eyes. An all-too familiar glint. More engines came to life. The room resonated to the menacing roar.

_“Two whole weeks jam-packed with nonstop action! It’s a smorgasbord of pulse-pounding exhilaration for all you adrenaline junkies out there!”_

Hater’s green eyes lit up like stars. Peepers groaned quietly.

_“Registration ends tonight at midnight! Intergalatix, the race to rock the cosmos!”_

The commercial ended. The cobra-bear show came back on. But Hater wasn’t paying attention. A glazed look came over his skull.

A spark of unease squirmed in Peepers' belly. “Hater,” he said, very cautiously.

“Peepers,” Hater turned to him, his face alive with excitement. “D’you ever feel the need to do something crazy?”

_The only thing I need to do is change the subject._

“We’re not entering that race,” Peepers told him flatly.

Hater jostled him playfully. “C’mon, buddy, you never wanna do anything fun anymore! Where’s your sense of adventure, Peepers?”

“I live with you,” Peepers said. “That’s enough adventure for anybody.” Hater’s face fell. Peepers relented, even as his stomach dropped down past his toes. “Just a joke,” he said quickly. “Sounds like…fun.”

"You mean it?" Hater threw up his arms and raced around the room, roaring triumphantly. "Oh, Peepers, you're the _best!_ " 

He leapt up and spun Peepers in a circle, kissing him fiercely. Peepers tried to match his enthusiasm, gave up, and wriggled out of Hater's embrace. With his boots on the throne arm, Peepers slumped back in the throne.

"Oh, yeah!" Hater's wild cheering echoed through the hall. "Be right back, Peeps! Gonna log in and register! Whoo! We're gonna win! Road race! Road race!"

Still upside down, Peepers watched him go, a flicker of doubt stirring in the back of his mind.  _Oh, Grop. What have I gotten myself into this time?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! Sorry, guys! This one's gonna need a serious overhaul! Still making changes!

“Wander, listen, I know it’s last minute, but I need you to watch Tim,” Peepers said.

Alone in their bedroom, Peepers struggled to pack. Hater was off, supposedly packing food. Peepers knew better than to hope. It was more likely Hater would be playing video games than gathering supplies. Even if he did, it would all be chips and junk. Useless for a such a long car trip.

Two bags, one for each of them, sat patiently at the end of the bed. Peepers couldn’t leave without double-checking. Just in case. Balancing his phone on one shoulder, Peepers rifled through the closet, mentally checking off what was left to pack.  _Cloak, cloak, there’s my other shoe…_ He snorted impatiently. _Typical. I’m left to plan, and he’s off celebrating._

“Yeah, sure,” Wander said on the other end. “If ya don’t mind me askin’, what’s the occasion?”

“Something…something came up,” Peepers said heavily. He folded another cloak and stuffed it into the bulging bag at the foot of the bed.

“Don’t worry, Peepers, we’ll be there,” Wander said. “Won’t we, Syl?”

“What are you signing me up for this time?” demanded Sylvia’s voice.

Peepers rubbed his eyelid. “Thanks. Real quick-” He stopped short. Hater was coming back up the hall. “Listen,” he said, talking quickly, “we’ll be gone before you get here, so I’ll leave the keys with-”

“No need! I’ve already got a set.”

Peepers caught the unmistakable jangle of keys. “How-” he started to say, then stopped himself. _Never mind, I don’t want to know._

“There’s food in the fridge,” he said. “Tim should be set, but just in case, I left a couple extra boxes in the pantry-”

“Stop worrying,” Wander said soothingly. “Go have fun. Everything’s under control. Tim’s in good hands.”

“Thanks,” Peepers said, sighing. “I owe you.”

“Wander!” Sylvia sounded irritated. “What did-”

He hung up. Stuffing the phone into his back pocket, Peepers collapsed back on the bed. The spare blaster was still buried somewhere deep in the closet. Peepers groaned and rubbed his lids, trying to ease the headache.

The door burst open. Hater threw himself on Peepers. “C’mon, Peeps, don’t just sit there! We’re gonna have a blast!”

Peepers ducked under his arm and moved to the top of the bed. “Yeah,” he said, unenthusiastically. “Can’t wait.”

Hater missed the sarcasm. He sprang off the bed, snatching his bag in one hand, and ran to the door. “Let’s go!” he demanded. “C’mon, slowpoke! Road race!” Hater tore down the hall, still chanting. “Road race! Road race!”

Sighing, Peepers stood up. Nothing left to check. Peepers heaved his bag on one shoulder, about to leave, when something caught his eye.  _There!_

A black duffel bag, half-hidden under a pile of filthy clothes. Peepers unzipped the top, trying not to inhale the stench, and drew out a magnificent blaster. It was big, almost as tall as he was, shiny black with a glittery chrome handle. Peepers examined every inch, his chest swelling with pride. Decorative and deadly.

He exhaled. The backup.

“While we’re young, Peepers!” Hater roared.

“Calm down, I’m on my way,” Peepers grumbled. He pulled the massive blaster out of the closet and heaved it over his shoulder.

Hater was already in the hangar. Their van was packed, ready for this fiasco. Peepers threw his bag into the back and slammed the door.

“What’s that?” Hater asked, nodding at the blaster.

“An insurance,” Peepers said, pulling on his seatbelt. “Better safe-”

“-than sorry. I know, I know!” Hater rolled his eyes. "Boring!"

Peepers bit back an angry retort. _If he calls me boring one more time, I’m gonna scream._

Carefully stowing the blaster under his seat, Peepers tugged at his seatbelt, checking the strain.

“Are you done being boring yet?" Hater asked exasperatedly.

That hurt. Peepers straightened up and glared at him. "I am not boring! It's just a precaution! I need to have a plan, and if you think that's boring-"

Hater didn't seem to notice. He rolled his eyes again and tapped the steering wheel. "Plan, shman! C'mon, Peepers, live a little!" He gave him a playful shove. Peepers didn't smile. Hater gave up and turned back to the steering wheel. "You never wanna do anything fun anymore,” he snorted. “Let’s go already!”

"Ha! I’ll show you boring,” Peepers said, sounding more confident than he felt. “Let’s get a move on before you pop a gasket.”

Hater slammed a foot on the gas. “Whoo!”

The van rocketed off before the Skullship’s mouth was really open. And they were off in the deep vacuum of space. Peepers rolled his eye and stared at the Skullship, getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

_“You never wanna do anything fun anymore.”_ Peepers shuddered, more hurt than offended.  _I'm not boring. Am I?_

He was cautious. Even more so these days. Ever since Dominator had captured him. It had been months. But Peepers still woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, with Dominator's laughter ringing in his retina. The Watchdog kept glancing over his shoulder, expecting to see her around every corner, looming out of every shadow. Some days were better than others. But no matter where he went, that deep, terrible doubt clouded the back of his mind and made his skin crawl.

Hater had bounced right back. It had taken three weeks before he regained the old swagger Peepers knew so well. He wasn't willing to sit back and let life pass on by. Peepers didn't have the heart to tell his boyfriend how terrified he was to leave the safety of the Skullship and venture back out. He didn't want Hater to think he was dating a coward. Or worse, a worrywart. But being called boring, especially after all that turmoil...

Peepers shook himself. _Can't spend the rest of my life hiding inside._

Life had to go on. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to get out and stretch his legs. But more than anything, Peepers wanted to run back to bed and curl under the blankets.


	3. Chapter 3

Peepers was still in a bad mood when they reached the starting line. There were more cars than actual competitors. Aliens were everywhere, running around willy-nilly, arguing and chattering. A long line clustered around the registration table, a mishmash of angry and eager contestants. Peepers perched on Hater’s shoulder, in case they got separated. From this height, Peepers had a decent view. He scanned the crowd, checking every face, looking for the ghastly green skin. The glowing armor.

"What are you looking for?" Hater asked.

"Nothing," Peepers muttered. 

_No need to be boring._

Swallowing his apprehension, Peepers clung to Hater as the skeleton muscled a path over to an open attendant. The attendant was young, (mid-thirties maybe?) and chewing gum so noisily, it was almost obscene.

 _Gross, c_ _lose your mouth!_ Peepers looked away, revolted. _T_ _im eats neater than that. Ugh!_

“Name?” she asked in a bored voice.

“Lord Hater, number one superstar,” Hater said, puffing out his chest.

Peepers rolled his eye, half-annoyed, half-amused. The receptionist examined them for a long second. Her eyes flitted over Peepers, clinging to Hater's neck. One penciled eyebrow lifted. Peepers stared defiantly back, refusing to blink. 

She ran a finger down the list in front of her. “All right. You’re all set, Mr. Lord Hater,” she said, blowing them off with a bubble. “Rules are on the list. Race ends in two weeks. Whoever comes back with the most items wins.”

“Fair enough." Hater passed the list across to Peepers. "Thanks, toots.”

Still on his shoulder, Peepers examined the paper. His stomach dropped. “Wait, wait, wait. It’s a scavenger hunt?!”

The attendant looked up at him. “Yeah,” she said. Another bubble popped. “We thought it was something new. A fresh take. Better than a boring car race.”

“But,” Peepers spluttered. “But…”

Hater squeezed his foot. “Calm down, Peeps,” he muttered. “We got this!”

Still spluttering, Peepers glared from Hater to the gum-chomping attendant. _That stupid commercial didn’t say a flarping thing about it being a scavenger hunt! This is impossible!_

As they left, Peepers heard her shout. “Next!” 

“It’s a scavenger hunt!” he hissed as Hater opened the van door. “A stupid, Grop-darn scavenger hunt!”

Hater plonked him down in the passenger seat. “Car, foot, doesn’t matter,” he said with a careless shrug. “We’re still gonna win.”

Peepers gaped at him. “It’s neither, it’s a scavenger hunt!” he snapped. “Have you seen what we need to find? A fang-”

“Tim-Tim’s got us covered,” Hater said, waving an impatient hand. “Next?”

“An…unhatchable egg?”

“Anything else?”

Peepers gaped at him.  _Isn't that enough?!_ He waved the list in Hater’s face. "Uh, yeah!"

Hater didn’t look away from the huge stoplight hanging over the track. “Stop squawking and read out the whole list.”

Irritated, Peepers ran a finger along the list of items. “We’re looking for an unhatchable egg, a rock from an extinct volcano, a receipt from,” he squinted at the list, “the world’s best diner? Hater, this is stupid!”

Hater drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Don’t worry, Peepers! We’ve got this. What else are we lookin’ for?”

“A vial of dragon’s acid, an Arcanmorph fang, and…a moonrock. Wait, I lied, we need a quartz-infused moonrock."

“Pfft. Easy.”

“Are you kidding?” Peepers spluttered. “It’s a suicide mission! A vial of venom, volcanoes?! Nobody’s stupid enough to-”

Hater cut him off. “Too late! Race’s gonna start!”

The enormous stoplight had lit up. Peepers groaned. The light blazed red. All around them, aliens scrambled to their cars. Doors slammed. Engines roared to life. 

 _It’s not too late. I can still get us outta here in one piece!_ He looked at Hater. His bony face was full of an eagerness Peepers hadn’t seen there in months.

The light flashed yellow.

 _I can’t do it. He’s so excited._ Peepers heaved a sigh. _I love you too much to walk out on ya now._

“Hey, bros,” called an unwelcome voice. “Didn’t know you’d be here!”

Peepers closed his eye and groaned. A deep-throated snarl rumbled in Hater's chest. The sound made Peepers wince. He opened his eye and reached for Hater. Without turning, Hater offered his hand.

Fingers clasped, they glowered out the open window. “Emperor Awesome,” Hater hissed through clenched teeth.

Emperor Awesome was parked alongside them, leaning casually out of his white limo. “Long time, no see, Lord Loser,” he sneered. “You and your little pipsqueak can’t win this. Aweome’s got this one in the bag. Save yourselves the time and scurry on home.”

Peepers bristled. “Pipsqueak?!”

“Loser?!” Hater spat.

The light went green.

Awesome dropped out of sight. His limo roared to life. A jet of fire from the exhaust propelled Awesome into the sky. Peepers knew something was wrong. It wasn’t just fire coming out of Awesome’s tailpipe. The glowing rockets sent a powerful shockwave over the track. All around them, cars sputtered out. Engines died mid-roar. Lights flickered. Angry shouts came from the grounded racers.

_He’s cutting the power!_

There was a pileup halfway down the track. Awesome’s thrusters had short-circuited everyone else. Hater threw out a hand, protecting Peepers as they swerved around a smoking car.

“He must have a draining battery, to cut everyone’s power like that,” Peepers panted. “You OK?!”

Hater nodded, his eyes huge. "Yeah," he grunted, "Yeah, I'm OK."

 _Trust Awesome to suck the power dry and use it to power his own ride!_ Peepers thought, fuming. _And now we’re stuck!_ Suddenly, he brightened up. _On the other hand, we can go home now!_

The van came to life.

Peepers blinked. “What?”

Hater waved a glowing finger. “Powers,” he said, smugly.

Trying hard not to show his disappointment, Peepers cuffed him under the chin. “Show-off.”

Hater’s knuckles stood out as he slammed his foot on the gas. Peepers flattened himself against the seat, digging his nails into the fabric. Hater threw back his head and whooped. “Let’s blow this joint. Hang on, Peepers!”

As they soared away, Peepers glanced down. Dozens of angry competitors were kicking their tires or beating their fists on the ground. A few had converged on the registration table. “They’re disqualified,” Peepers said. “Down in the rules; don’t cross the starting line, you don’t compete. Awesome did that one purpose.”

“What a surprise,” Hater said sarcastically. “I’m gonna make Awesome sorry he called us losers. We’re gonna win this thing! Right, Peeps?”

"Yeah, sure." Peepers nodded glumly. “Definitely.” He slumped down in his seat and scowled at the passing stars.  _It’s just us and Awesome. Oh, joy._


	4. Chapter 4

The absence of the other racers was unsettling. It was lonely in deep space. But quietly so. It was kind of nice. Not having anyone else around. Just the open cosmos. His man by his side. The thrill of the drive. Peepers would've enjoyed it, had they not been speeding. 

He had a hand on Hater's shoulder as they rocketed after Awesome and his limo. "Don't go so fast. We might miss something."

"We gotta catch up to Awesome!" Hater reminded him.

Peepers held his temper. "I didn't forget about Awesome." he said, patting Hater's arm. "Don't worry. We'll catch up. But we've gotta be smart about this. It won't do us any good to overlook the little things. One missed item could be the difference between winning and losing."

"Yeah, that's true," Hater admitted grudgingly.

Peepers gave his shoulder another reassuring squeeze and returned to staring out the window. Countless stars whizzed by. Tiny pinpricks of blue-white fire swimming in the endless black ocean. Peepers loved stargazing. It was one of his favorite things to do, especially with Hater. There was something magical about it. Laying fat on his back, staring up at those tiny dots. Snuggling Hater under a vast blanket of open space, ripe for the conquering. Theirs for the taking.

Blind to the passing beauty, Hater drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His impatience was contagious in such a confined space. Peepers' own legs started bouncing.

 _If we don't find something soon, he's gonna blow his top,_ Peepers realized.

After fifteen minutes, Hater broke the silence. "Where should we go first?" 

"I say we get the the big stuff outta the way," Peepers said.

"Makes sense. Start off hard, finish easy."

Peepers shoved him playfully. "Have you seen some of this stuff? Define easy!"

"Shut up!" Hater chuckled and flicked the helmet with one finger.

Squeaking indigently, Peepers curled his fingers, about to flick him back, when something outside caught his attention. It was a tiny moon, hardly bigger than the Skullship. A crumbling mass of black rock. Probably volcanic. Hater was anxious. Peepers knew wanted to keep going. To catch up to Awesome. But, all the same, if they missed this...

Peepers made the call. "Wait, go back! Go back!"

"What's up? Did you see something?" Hater shot him a quizzical look. "Peepers, we can't-"

"Trust me," Peepers said. "Babe, you have to trust me on this, I think I saw something."

Hater whooped. "Really? Great!" He pulled Peepers into a tight, one-armed hug and planned a loud kiss on the helmet. "Attaboy! Just tell me where to go!"

"Remember the moonrock I mentioned? I think I know where to start looking."

"A moonrock? Seriously? That's what you're so excited about?" The hope slid from Hater's face. Replaced by a look of disgust. "I thought it was somethin' good."

"Need I remind you we don't have anything yet?"

Hater didn't say anything. He glanced hopelessly from his boyfriend to the distant stars and back again. Uncertainty glittered in his eyes.

"It's a start," Peepers said.

Sighing dramatically, Hater threw the van into reverse. "OK."

Peepers squinted out the window, marking their progress. "Little more. Little more. That's it, right there!"

“You sure this is it?” Hater asked doubtfully. His lip curled as he examined the cratered surface. "It's so puny. What makes you think it's down there? Are you positive, Peeps? Absolutely certain?"

"Positive," Peepers said stubbornly. "I'm telling you, we need to stop here."

Hater didn't looked convinced. Struggling to remain patient, Peepers tapped the side of his helmet with a finger. "Think about it, Hater. We need a rock, but not just any...”

“Skip the lecture and get to the point."  

"Don't forget, we’re looking for a specific type of moonrock,” Peepers said, running a finger down the list. Looking for the exact line to back up his argument.

“Pfft! Easy!" Hater snorted confidently. "There’s tons of rocks around here. Take your pick. We'll just grab one-”

Peepers cut him off. “It’s not that simple. It can't be just any rock. We need a _quartz-infused_ moonrock. That's the most important part."

“Uhhh…” Hater blinked, confused. He stared from his boyfriend to the puny moon outside the window. Obviously not putting two and two together.

“We need a shiny purple rock,” Peepers said with exaggerated patience.

Unconvinced, Hater glanced at the little moon. “And why d’you think there’s one here?”

The Watchdog leaned across his lap and pointed at the black surface below. “Quartz only grows at high temperatures,” Peepers explained. “Look at the moon. Look at the soil. All those rocks. I’ll bet my best blaster it was a volcanic one not too many eons ago…”

“Boring!” Hater said. "We don't have time for this!"

“Fine!” Peepers snapped, losing his patience. “It’s covered in old lava. Want a purple quartz moonrock? Check below.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Hater asked irritably.

Peepers rolled his eye with a snort. Something flashed below. He sat bolt upright. “Stop it, we’re right here!” 

Hater slammed on the brakes, and Peepers pointed out the window, indicating a distinct purple glow that stuck out like a beacon against the barren, gray landscape.

“All right!" Hater grinned. The light in his eyes rivaled the glittering stone. "This one’s mine!”

Before Peepers could say anything, Hater teleported. Growling, Peepers leaned on the dashboard.  _Idiot!_

Peering down, he saw Hater knocking rocks aside as he looked for the one they needed. Hater scooped up the rock and winked at the Watchdog. “Got it!” he called triumphantly.

“Great, now get back here!" Peepers gestured him up. "We need to keep…”

Loud, pulsing rock music suddenly shook the van windows.

Hater bared his teeth. “Awesome!”

"Fantastic." Peepers slumped back in the seat, groaning. “Here we go.”

Emperor Awesome, his ugly cape billowing behind him, stood proudly on the hood of his white limo. “Thanks for finding the bling, Lord Loser!” he crowed.

Hater dropped into a crouch, a ball of green light forming in his free hand.

Peepers leaned out the window. “Hater, leave it!” he bellowed. “Let’s go!”

Predictably, Hater hadn’t even turned to look. He kept glaring up at Awesome, snarling like an angry wolf. The light in his fist pulsed.

 _No!_ Fear roiled in Peepers’ chest. _No! Not now!_

Peepers glared from Hater to Awesome and back again. This was the last thing they needed right now. He needed to do something. And fast. But what? What?! The answer came to him in a flash.  _The backup blaster! Of course!_

Diving down, Peepers fumbled wildly under his seat. “Where is it? Where is it?!”

He was finding everything but what he needed. Old gum wrappers. A very old sneaker.

"We got here first, Awesome!" Hater was yelling.

Peepers redoubled his efforts, pushing his way through even more trash.

"Who cares?" Awesome sneered. "Cough up the rock, or I'll beat your little boy toy to a pulp!"

"Leave him out of this!"

Sweat broke out under his helmet. Peepers scrabbled furiously. His fingers closed around the handle. Grunting, Peepers heaving the heavy blaster into his arms.

"Let's go. Give it here, Hater," Awesome was saying. "Or the runt gets it!"

“Get lost, fish face!” Peepers bellowed.

Distracted, Awesome rounded on him. “Keep outta this, runt!”

Peepers drew the blaster out. Very slowly, very obviously, he cocked it. It came to life with a sister hum. Awesome went white to the gills. He took a step back. Peepers could almost hear his knees knocking. “Get outta here!" Peepers spat."Now!"

Hater drew back a glowing fist. “Stay out of it, Peepers! I can handle it!”

Too late.

Peepers fired, just as Hater loosed a bolt. The Watchdog’s shot missed Awesome’s dorsal fin by a quarter of an inch. If that. Hater, on the other hand, totally misjudged the distance. The light in his palm ricocheted off one of Awesome’s rims and hit their van. The whole thing shuddered violently. Peepers almost lost his balance. Dropping to all fours, he scrambled over to the window. Smoke billowed from under the hood. A harsh, burning smell filled the air.

 _Grop, no!_ Peepers froze.  _That’s not good!_

The van door suddenly slammed. Peepers jumped. Hater was back. He dropped the moonrock on the dashboard without looking at Peepers. The Watchdog doubled up, clutching his chest. Trying to ease the frantic pumping of his heart.

Outside, Awesome dropped through his sunroof with a shout of alarm, and the limo screeched off.

Still trembling, Peepers stuffed the blaster under his seat with a sniff. _Idiot!_

“Why'd ya shoot?” Hater spat.

“You're welcome,” Peepers responded coldly.

Hater dug the key out of his cloak. "I don't need you to protect me," he spat.

 _I'll protect you, anyway._ Peepers rolled his eye.  _Would it kill you to show a little appreciation? Somebody needs to keep your butt safe._

Still not making eye contact, Hater flipped the key. 

Nothing happened.

 _Oh, great._ Peepers groaned softly, his stomach sinking past his boots.

Hater switched it off and tried again. The engine stalled. Hater tried again. On the dashboard, the moonrock shook. It was about to fall. Peepers snatched it off the dash and stuffed it into a pocket. No sense seeing it fall and break.

Hater hadn't noticed. He slumped back in his seat and covered his eyes with a hand. “Battery’s shot,” he growled through his fingers.

"Don't worry," Peepers said. "We'll figure something out."

"We'd better!" Hater spat. “Your little stunt drained the battery."

“ _I_ don’t have lightning powers!” Peepers shot back.

“If _you_ hadn’t distracted Awesome, _I_ wouldn’t have missed!” Hater retorted.

Peepers bristled. “I was trying to help!”

“Well, don’t!” Hater snarled. “I can fight my own battles!”

“Awesome would’ve creamed you!” Peepers growled back at him.

“I’m not helpless, I had it under control!” Hater snapped.

“Oh, yeah, OK,” Peepers said, very sarcastically. “Didn’t you notice the thirty-thousand-watt disintegrator ray strapped to the hood?” Furiously, Hater opened his mouth, but no words came out. The Commander crossed his arms. “No, I didn’t think so. A hit from a gun that strong would’ve zapped your bones to dust in half a heartbeat!”

Hater rolled his eyes. “You’re exaggerating, Peepers.”

“I am not!” Peepers screeched. “I was trying to protect you!”

“You made me look stupid!”

Peepers lost his patience. “Oh, please. You don’t need me to do that! You do a pretty good job being stupid all on your own!”

They glared at each other for a long second. Peepers was so angry, he was shaking. 

“Do me a favor,” Hater spat through his teeth, “and stop screwing me over! I don’t need you messing with my reputation.”

Hurt, Peepers crossed his arms and turned away. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “Next time, I won’t waste the plasma.”


	5. Chapter 5

Luckily, Hater found the backup switch under the dashboard. Peepers huddled against the window, not looking at him. They didn't say anything as the smoking van spluttered unhappily back into action. They drifted for several miles before the reserve power gave out. The van slowly sank, coming to rest on an uninhabited jungle planet. The second the wheels touched down, clouds rolled in, and it started to rain. In bitter silence, they waited for the rain to let up. Restarting the battery in the middle of a downpour was just asking for trouble. Even Hater knew it. Eventually, the rain slowed to a patter. Without looking at each other, they got out of the car. 

Peepers sank a good inch into slimy mud. He wrinkled an eyelid. "Gross."

“Stop bellyaching and gimmie a hand!” Hater shouted.

Grumbling under his breath, Peepers waded across to him. Cold, slimy muck squelched into his boots, drenching his socks. Peepers shuddered. “Ugh, man.”

Hater growled impatiently. “Come on!”

“Calm down,” Peepers snapped. “I’m shorter than you are, it’s a little-”

“But you’ve got a big brain,” Hater retorted acidly.

Peepers winced at the venom in the words, but pulled himself up on the hood. Hater shifted aside.  _Like he doesn’t want our shoulders touching._ The thought hurt. Impatiently, Peepers shook his retina. _I’m just imagining it._

Side by side, they examined the engine. Dark smoke billowed from the twisted metal. Peepers doubted it would start ever again.

Hater obviously disagreed. “No biggie. Little zap’ll wake this thing up,” he said.

For the first time, Peepers felt hopeful. Hater's powers were strong enough to short out a planet. Restarting this old jalopy would be a piece of cake. There was a sudden rumble. Peepers glanced at the sky. Dark, menacing clouds were gathering overhead. The air felt heavy, pressing on him like physical weight.  _It’s gonna pour._

“Hater,”he said warningly. “Don’t do it, it’s gonna rain.”

The skeleton ignored him. He took half a step back and cracked his knuckles. “No!” Peepers yelped. “Don’t!”

Peepers jumped back. A shower of sparks ricocheted off the battery. Hater zapped it just as a solid wave of cold rain dropped from the sky. Coughing, Peepers spat out water. He was drenched to the hide. And badly shaken. But that wasn’t what made his belly clench.

Horrified, he stared at the sizzling battery. “I told you not to,” he moaned. “Are you OK?”

Hater shook water off his gloves. “Fine,” he spat. "Just great."

He didn’t sound it. Peepers reached for him. Hater shook him off. He turned his back on Peepers and hunched his shoulders. “This was supposed to be fun,” he said, so quietly, Peepers half-thought he was talking to himself. “This whole vacation was supposed to be fun, but you just _had_ to save the day, didn't you?!" He whipped around and glared at Peepers. "It’s all your fault!”

The hair on Peepers’ arms stood up. “My fault?!”

Thunder rumbled overhead. A fork of lightning lit up Hater’s face, highlighting the bared teeth and glittering green eyes.

“I didn’t even want to come on this stupid trip!” Peepers howled. “ _I_ wanted to stay home! _I_ wanted to stay safe! I _knew_ it was gonna be a disaster! I told you! But _noooo! You_ knew better!"

“Me?!” Hater snarled. _“I_ only came out here because _you’ve_ been so _boring_ lately!” The words pierced Peepers like cold knives. He took a step back. Another crack of approaching thunder rumbled right over their heads. "You can't pin this on me, Peepers!"

"I was trying to keep you safe!" Peepers almost screamed.

"I don't need you!" Hater bellowed.

Hurt roiled in Peepers' gut. Hater knew he'd struck a nerve. Eyes glittering with cold fury, he kept going. "I can fight my own fights! I'm not helpless! This empire was built before you, and I can do it again! I don't need you to protect me!"

Blinking rain from his eyes, Hater glared at his boyfriend. The rage in his face was hard to stomach. Peepers glared right back, hurt and confused and feeling about two inches tall. Ice-cold rain ran down his back, drenching the already sopping uniform.

Another flash of lightning ripped the sky in half. “If you weren't so boring, we wouldn't be out here in the first place!" Hater towered over him, lightning crackling in his clenched fists. “You’re too scared to set foot outside the Skullship anymore! If you’re so terrified, maybe we shouldn’t date anymore!”

Horrified, Peepers recoiled, fighting the sting of tears. He took another step back, and slipped, right into a puddle. Swallowing a sob, Peepers wiped mud out of his eye and squared up to Hater. His voice shook. “Fine,” he hissed. “If that's what you want! Whatever you say, _Lord Hater_.”

Peepers ripped the helmet off and hurled it aside. A wave of cold muck splattered across the hem of Hater's cloak. The skeleton leapt aside with a snarl. Blinking back angry tears, Peepers spun on his heel, turning his back on the man he loved and stormed off into the pouring rain.


	6. Chapter 6

Sobbing under his breath, Peepers stomped through rain-swollen puddles, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He'd never been so hurt. He felt tiny and useless and mad enough to spit fire. Behind him, the van sputtered back into life. Peepers stopped. Furious, he scowled at the van. It rose into the air, clanking and rattling. The windows were up, but he knew Hater wasn’t looking for him.

 _Probably looking for Awesome,_ Peepers thought bitterly. _Well, good luck!_

More than anything, Peepers wanted to throw something at Hater. But there was nothing close to hand, and, in less than a minute, Hater was gone, lost among the rain-swollen clouds. "Take your stupid rock and finish this one by yourself! I’m done!” Peepers bellowed after him.

It was pointless. He knew it. But Peepers couldn’t help himself. He screamed insults at the black sky until his throat went numb. Then he cried, angry, bitter, miserable tears.

Out of breath and blinded by the stinging rain, Peepers let his arms fall. “Ow!”

Peepers winced. His wrist had hit something in his pocket. Something very hard. Muttering under his breath, Peepers flung a glove into his pocket and dug out the moonrock. It glittered neon pink in a flash of cold lighting. Peepers felt sick. Dripping wet, shaking with furious sobs, he glared at the rock in his fist. For a second, he wanted to shatter it. To fling the rock wildly from him. But no.

 _All this trouble and I’ve got it_ , Peepers thought savagely. A nasty smile split his retina. _Let’s see you win now! Ha!_ Breathing hard, he thrust it back into his pocket.  _You need a moonrock. And it’s with your boring boyfriend! Take that, Hater!_

Seething with frustration, Peepers marched into the dark woods. He wandered around for at least an hour, muttering under his breath and crying nonstop. He finally found shelter under a rocky overhang and retreated into the fetal position. He couldn't sleep, even he'd wanted to.   _It’s too quiet without his snoring._

The rain came down harder as dawn approached. Peepers tried to ignore the rumbling thunder. Easier said than done. He’d never been a fan of storms.

 _Pathetic! I’m dating a skeleton with lighting powers!_  He swallowed, blinded by fresh tears. _I_ was _dating him._ Peepers shook himself. _Scared of a little thunder? C’mon, Peepers, man up! What are you, a pup? No! I’m a Watchdog!_

But he didn’t feel like one. Another clap of thunder sent goosebumps up his arms. Swallowing a fresh howl, Peepers squeezed his eye shut. That did it. As much fun as it was, curled up in the pouring rain. The time had come to shelve his pride. There was no other choice. Peepers dug his emergency phone out of his back pocket and found the contact.

It rang a few times. He half gave up hope. It was late, after all. But, amazingly, the call got picked up. "Hello?" the voice on the other line said.

Squeezing his eye shut against the rain, Peepers rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, Mikey,” he croaked. 

His throat was raw from crying. He coughed and wiped away his tears. It hurt to ask. But there was no other option. “Listen," he said in a flat, hollow voice. "I need a favor. Can you pick me up?”

“I’ll be right there,” said the voice on the other end.

Peepers curled up in the leaves. “Thanks, little brother.”


	7. Chapter 7

Muttering furiously, Hater drove back home. He’d lost Awesome’s trail and the van was ready to drop. How he managed to get it started was a complete mystery to the skeleton. But one thing was clear. No gas, no chasing Awesome, no winning the race. Gnashing his teeth, Hater parked the van in the Skullship’s hangar. He was pissed off and completely drenched. He made it just in time. The engine died the second the wheels hit the ground.

One of the head mechanics rushed out to greet him. “Welcome back, sir! How…the van…What…What?”

He gaped at the spluttering van, lost for words. Hot steam gushed from under the hood. The air was full of the smell of burning rubber.

Hater snatched the mud-splattered helmet off the seat and stuffed it under his cloak. “Don’t ask,” he snarled. “Just fix it!”

The Watchdog straightened up, saluting. “Sir, yes, sir!”

Hater sloshed back to his room, leaving a trail of soggy footprints behind.  _Stupid Peepers! He’s no fun anymore! I’m Lord Hater! I don’t have time to just sit around and be miserable! Gotta live life on the edge!_

“Tim!” Hater bellowed as the door opened. “Tim, this is the worst...unh!”

He took one step into his room and went sprawling, flat on his face. Someone tackled him around the ankles. For a second, he thought it was Peepers, and a fresh wave of rage roiled in his chest.

But it wasn’t Peepers. And it wasn’t Tim.

“Hatey! You’re back early!”

Hater picked himself up. “Wander?!”

The furry nomad got to his feet, beaming. “What’re you doin’ back so soon? You’re soaked!”

Wander wasn’t alone. Sylvia was there, too. Lounging on the bed, reading a book. “What happened to you?” she asked, indicating the puddle under the cloak.

Hater shook water from his horns. “Mind your own business! What are you doin’ in my room?!”

“We’re looking for Tim,” Wander said. He looked around the room, as if checking for eavesdroppers. “We’re playing hide-and-seek,” he added in a loud whisper.

“I don’t have time for this!” Hater threw back his head and bellowed. “Tim!”

Something small and hairy shot out from under the bed and hurled itself into Hater's waiting arms.

Hater brightened up. “Tim!”

Sylvia leapt aside, shoving Wander behind her. But Hater dropped to his knees. Tim ran all over him him, shrieking. Hater laughed loudly as Tim slobbered all over his skull. He wrestled with Tim, cooing and chortling. “Who’s my good boy? You are! You are!”

The unbiased, open affection eased some of the fury bubbling in Hater’s chest. Tim purred, brushing against Hater’s dripping cloak and gnawing on his glove. Hater smiled. “Miss me, buddy?”

Tim purred even louder. Hater got back up, scratching Tim's head. “When did you two get here?” he demanded.

“Oh,” Wander said, “Peepers asked us to-”

Chest heaving and soaked to the bone, Hater swore at the top of his lungs. “Stupid Peepers!”

Tim wriggled loose and dropped to the ground, hissing at the outburst. Wander retreated a few steps. Sylvia wrapped a protective hand around him. “What’s your problem?”

“What happened?"  Wander asked in a small voice. "Where’s Peepers?”

Fury rose in Hater’s bones, searing his marrow. Fishing the helmet out of his cloak, Hater chucked it away. It bounced off the opposite wall and rolled under the bed. “He walked out on me!” Hater exploded.

Sylvia pulled Wander further away. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care!” Hater snarled.

“Don’t say that, you know that’s not true,” Wander said quietly.

Hater rounded on him. “Shut up!”

“You need to relax,” Sylvia growled. “Come on, Wander, let’s go.”

But Wander wriggled loose and squared up to Hater. “You wanna talk about it?”

For a second, Hater wanted to tell him to buzz off. But he stopped. Wander loved to help.  _Ugh, man!_ The skeleton shuddered. _Whatever. A fresh set of ears. At least_ somebody’s _gonna listen!_

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered.

“We’ll let you freshen up,” Wander said. “C’mon, Syl. Meetcha you downstairs, Hater,” he added before the door closed.

Still fuming, Hater pulled off his saturated clothes and showered. He was so used to having Peepers right there to scrub his back, it took more than a few tries for him to lather his own spine. It was lonely. Taking a shower without Peepers by your side. The skeleton roughly toweled himself dry and scrambled into a new cloak. Hater pulled on dry socks, but left his ruined shoes behind in the bathroom.


	8. Chapter 8

“You look like a drowned rat,” Mikey said. He slammed the front door behind him and hung his jacket on a hook.

Peepers glared at him. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He took off one of his gloves and wrung the water out of it.

His brother leaned back on his heels. “Easy, Peepers, I’m just fooling.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Peepers grumbled.

Mikey reached into the hamper beside the front door and passed him a towel. “I figured,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen you this depressed since...well, I’ve never seen you this upset.”

Peepers didn’t reply. He was too busy drying himself off. “Thanks, Mikey,” he mumbled eventually. “Y’know, for…”

“Don’t mention it,” Mikey told him. “How many times have I crashed at your place?”

 _To many to count,_  Peepers thought to himself. “Still, thanks,” he said. “Do me a favor, will you? Don’t tell Ma and Pop. I’m not about to run back home with my tail between my legs.”

 _I still have some dignity._ If he went back to his parents, he'd never live it down. And he wasn't about to give Hater the satisfaction of seeing him run home like a pup. Not that the current situation was much better. Running was still running. Whether it was back to his parents or his brother’s one-bedroom apartment. Retreat was never an option. Surrender was out of the question. Peepers wasn’t used to running. He’d made his career fighting rival villains and fighting alongside one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy.

This was humiliating. The leader of the Watchdogs, second-in-command of the Hater Empire, crouching, sopping-wet in his baby brother’s living room.

Pathetic.

To his credit, Mikey asked no questions. It took him less than half an hour to find the planet. Peepers had never been so relieved to see him. The car door opened and Mikey sprang out. He gave Peepers a huge hug, a dry towel, and a bag from the nearest drive thru. Burger and fries, the ultimate comfort food.

Mikey rolled his eye. He walked Peepers down the hall to the bathroom, an arm around his brother’s sopping shoulders.  “As if I’d tell them,” Mikey sniffed. “Don’t panic, big brother. Mikey’s gotcha back.”

In spite of himself, Peepers smirked.  _Big brother._ _He’s taller than I am._

His brother patted his back, trying to cheer Peepers up. It didn't help. Peepers felt worse than ever. Standing in his brother's apartment, soaked to the skin. Hiding from Hater. And hating himself for it.

“Take a shower,” Mikey advised. “Gimmie the uniform, I’ll throw it in the washer.”

He closed the door. Peepers stripped off and left his clothes outside. Resting a hand against the wall, Peepers let the water flow over his back. The water was hot, but his insides were ice-cold.

Every time he closed his lids, Hater’s sneering face assaulted him. Peepers couldn’t shake the hollow ache in his chest. Hater snarling at him, the stony glint in his green eyes.  _“We shouldn’t date anymore!”_

Hours later, and the words still stung. Peepers winced at the memory, shuddering in the hot water.  _“If you hadn’t been so boring lately…it’s all your fault!”_

“Hey, Peepers!" Mikey called. "I’m leaving clothes outside!”

Peepers jumped, but kept his voice steady as he shouted back, “OK! Thanks, Mikey!”

 _I thought you loved me!_ He couldn’t shake the chill of Hater’s rejection. The baleful glint in his green eyes as he broke Peepers’ heart.  _I thought you loved me._ Angrily, Peepers twisted the shower knobs.  _You told me you cared!_

A blast of scalding water made him recoil. Snarling, Peepers hammered the knobs in the other direction. _I loved you. I never gave up on you! And this is the thanks I get?!_

Ice-cold water gushed from the showerhead. Peepers swallowed a screech and knocked the knobs back into place.  _Get a grip!_  Peepers told himself.  _Don’t cry out! That’s a sign of weakness! You’re stronger than this! You’re a Commander! Act like one! Grow up!_

Chest heaving, Peepers fought to get his breathing under control.  _“You made me look stupid!”_

“I was trying to help!” Peepers screamed. He dropped to his knees. Hot, bitter tears ran down his retina, mingling with the cold drops from the showerhead. “I was trying to help,” he sobbed.

His voice dissolved, fading to a heartbroken whisper. “I was just trying to help.”


	9. Chapter 9

In the dry throne room, Hater ranted to Wander and Sylvia. Wander sat crossed-legged on the floor in front of the throne. Sylvia lounged against the wall, her arms crossed. Wander listened attentively, drinking in his every word. Sylvia might’ve been listening, too. Hater couldn’t tell. She had her back to him, but her tail kept flicking restlessly.

“So, he just disappears, right? Throws that Grop-darn helmet at me,” Hater spluttered. “Says to me _, ‘Whatever you say Lord Hater!’_ ” He mimicked Peepers’ voice. “And I haven’t seen him since!” Hater crossed his arms and glowered up at the ceiling.

“Oh, Hater, I’m so sorry,” Wander said. “Right, Syl?”

Sylvia didn’t reply.

“I can’t believe he’d just…” Hater waved a hand. “Ya know…take off like that! Like it’s my fault! He’s such a drama king!”

“And you just left him there?” Sylvia asked abruptly.

Hater lifted his chin and squinted at her back. “Duh.”

Sylvia wasn't prepared to take him at his word. “Is he home?” she demanded. “Did he make it back safe?”

“Duh,” Hater snorted.

“Have you actually _seen_ Peepers?” Wander asked, a little hesitantly.

Hater flopped back down. “No, but he’ll be around. He always comes back.”

 _Not always,_  a little voice whispered inside his head.  _Remember Dominator?_ Hater hesitated, then shook himself.  _Nah. He’s just off sulking somewhere. Typical Peepers. He’s fine!_

“Where is the little guy, then?” Sylvia asked aggressively.

Hater threw up his hands. “Ugh, fine!” he sighed, trying to mask his own concern.  “I’d better go check it out. Keep you two happy.”

He heaved himself to his feet and stomped out of the room. He didn’t like the way they’d been looking at him. Almost accusingly. And so, he searched. No sign of Peepers in the library.  _I didn’t even know we had one._

Hater checked every silent row twice before giving it up as a bad job. The cafeteria was deserted. Nobody in the hangar but the mechanics attending to the smoking van. None of the other Watchdogs had seen him.

Panicking now, Hater scoured the barracks. Still nothing.  _I’m running out of hiding places!_

He leaned against the wall, wracking his brains, trying to think where he hadn't looked. He'd combed every possible inch of the ship. Asked everyone. No one had seen him. There was only one place left to check. Hater grinned. The answer was obvious.  _Duh! He’s in his old room! Ha!_

Smirking to himself, Hater ran down the empty hallway. “Gotcha,” he muttered. “Hiding out here…I’ll show ya…” He kicked the door open. “Thought you’d teach me a lesson! Ha, joke’s on you, Peepers! I knew you’d…you’d…” His voice trailed off.

The room was empty. Completely deserted. A fine layer of dust had settled over everything. The bed was untouched. Everything looked abandoned and unfriendly. Peepers hadn’t been here in months. A hard lumped formed in Hater’s throat.  _Where are you, Peeps?_

Mouth dry, Hater stared at the cold, empty room. He remembered wrestling with Peepers. Play fighting on the bed until Peepers finally agreed to come back to Hater’s room. But then Hater remembered the hard glint in the Watchdog’s eye as he threw that stupid helmet. Recalled the venom in his voice as he sneered. Hater bristled.  _He’s off sulking somewhere! Why should I care? He’s such a baby._ Jaw set, Hater spun on his heel and stalked off.

“Did you find him?” Wander looked up eagerly as Hater stomped back into the throne room.

“No,” Hater spat. “He’s off pouting somewhere. Big deal. He’s so dramatic sometimes.”

Sighing, Hater collapsed backwards into the throne. He stretched out. A vertebra in his back popped with a satisfying crack. Cupping his hands behind his head, Hater reclined.

“Are you sure?” Wander asked. “You had no luck finding him?”

Hater opened an eye. “Positive. You know Peepers. He’s always gotta be right. Thinks he’s being clever. Thinks he’s teachin’ me a lesson. Ha, joke’s on him! I’m fine!”

“Where could he be, though?” Wander fretted.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Hater said around a yawn.

 _He’s fine. Isn’t he?_  A tiny flicker of concern stirred in Hater’s chest. He snuffed it out with an impatient shake of the head. _It’s not my fault I don’t know where he is! He took off!_

“You boneheaded creep,” Sylvia hissed.

Hater glanced over at her. She wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore. “Syl,” Wander cautioned. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“No!” Sylvia shook him off. She squared up to Hater. “Last time Peepers went missing, you tore the galaxy upside down! Now, you’re flat on your back when we can’t find him anywhere! What happened to you?!”

“He walked out on me,” Hater growled. “I didn’t tell him to!”

“Why’d he leave in the first place?”

“He made me look stupid!”

“You don’t need any help in that department,” Sylvia said nastily.

Hater growled from deep in his chest. “Whaddya mean?!”

"Easy, now." Wander stepped between them. He put a hand on either shoulder and forced them apart. “Easy, folks. Hater, all Sylvia means is, what happened? What did you two fight about?”

Sylvia turned away with an angry snort.

Hater scowled at Wander. “I told ya. We’re on a roll, suddenly Awesome shows up. I could’ve taken him, but the bold  _Commander Peepers_ ,” he said scathingly, “steps up and sends him packing! Like I can’t stand up for myself!”

“He was probably just trying to help.” Sylvia shot him a pitying glance. 

Hater rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what he said,” he muttered. “You sound just like Peepers. He wasn’t helping! He made me look weak! Right in front of Awesome!”

Sylvia snorted again, even more loudly. Wander nudged her further back. He sat next to Hater. “I’m sure Peepers meant well. He only did it because he loves you.”

“Ha! He’s got a funny way of showing it!”

“Because undying devotion and unconditional love is _so_ misleading,” Sylvia said scathingly.

Hater glared at her. Sylvia was facing him, comb up, fists clenched, nostrils flared.  _Man, she looks pissed._

Trying to appear nonchalant, Hater scoffed and folded his arms. “Yeah, right," he muttered.

“Now, Hater,” Wander said reproachfully. “Peepers loves you. He really, really does. You know that.”

“Are you really that stupid?” Sylvia asked incredulously. “An idiot could see how much the little guy cares about you!”

Hater scowled. “Shut up!”

Sylvia didn't mince her words. “He loves you, you stupid, boneheaded dolt! Get it through your thick skull! He loves you, and he always will!” Her voice rose to a shout, every word ringing through the silent hall. “You can’t fake that kind of thing. That little guy worships you! He loves you! Why, I have no idea. But he loves  _you!_  And if you loved him half as much, you’d swallow your pride and work things out! Undivided attention and unquestionable faith in you? How stupid are you? Who never gave up on you? Who’s always been there?”

Hater couldn't meet her cold, accusing gaze. He looked away, shaming pounding in his bones. When he didn't reply, she pulled out the big guns. “Remember Dominator?”

Hater's spine went cold. “Don’t bring that...don’t remind me! I didn't forget...”

Sylvia leaned over him until they were nose to nose. “He cried for you.”

Breathing hard, Hater swallowed. His mouth was suddenly bone-dry. “You don’t know...you’re lying!” he spluttered.

But he knew she wasn’t lying. His gut twisted into a painful knot. Peepers slept so close to his side these days. Being kidnapped had ruined Peepers. It had ruined Hater, too.

“He whispered your name in his sleep,” Sylvia said in dangerous hiss. “Over and over again. Night after night. I was there. I heard him! I heard it myself! He was crying. Crying for you. He missed you so much. He didn’t eat. Wouldn’t sleep. It tore him apart, being away from you!” Breathing very hard through her nostrils, she took another place forward. Their faces were inches apart. “If that’s not love, then I don’t wanna know what is.”

She let her words sink in. Hater knew she was right. Every syllable went through him like physical pain. Hater blinked hard, fighting back tears. Wander caught his eye and nodded. He was crying, too.

Trembling visibly, Wander stepped between them. “That’s enough, Syl,” he said, sniffling a little. “I’ll take it from here.”

Hater's hood flapped as she blew out a noisy breath. Sylvia retreated, facing the opposite wall, arms folded. Hater hastily wiped his eyes while her back was turned.

“Any idea why he took off?” Wander asked gently.

“I kinda…sorta…might’ve called him boring,” Hater mumbled to his sneakers.

The other two exchanged shocked glances. “You did _what?_ ” Wander gasped.

“Why?” Sylvia snarled.

Hater sank lower in his throne. “He’s been so lame lately,” he muttered defensively. "I've got a reputation to uphold."

“No wonder he left!" Sylvia said. "I would've, too! You're putting a reputation over unconditional love? Loyalty? The one person who loves you more than anything? You're an idiot!”

The words stung like a slap in the face. Hater sprang to his feet, tears in his eyes and teeth bared in a snarl. _"Shut up!"_

Again, Wander pulled them apart. “What Sylvia means is, it’s a good idea to choose your words a little carefully. Especially during a fight. You hurt his feelings. I'm sure he'll be back. Probably just taking a breather."

Still glaring at Sylvia, Hater shook his head.  _Hurt his feelings?_ “Peepers knows I didn’t mean it.”

 _“Does_  he?” Sylvia’s gaze sharpened.

Hater opened his mouth, about to give an angry retort. Suddenly, he remembered the flash of pain in Peepers’ eye when he’d screamed at him. His stomach gave another guilty lurch. Very slowly, Hater closed his mouth.

Sylvia’s eyes glinted. “I didn’t think so,” she said triumphantly.

“That’s enough!” Wander said, very sharply. Hater and Sylvia stared at him, shocked. “Sylvia, out! This isn’t helping!”

Sylvia spun on her heel. “Grow up!” she growled over her shoulder. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and learn to appreciate what you’ve got before it’s gone.”

“Out!” Wander repeated.

The door slammed. Hater slumped miserably in his throne. _Did I hurt his feelings?_  he wondered helplessly. _Grop, I’m so confused!_

Breathing shakily, Wander reached across and gave Hater's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Get some sleep,"  he advised. "We can talk in the morning." With one last pat, he left.

 _Just like Peepers._ Hater swallowed past the tight ball of misery and anger roiling in his chest. He gripped the locket hidden under his cloak. Gripped it until his fingers ached.  _What have I done?_


	10. Chapter 10

"You sure you’ll be OK?” Mikey asked again.

Peepers nodded woodenly. “Sure. Get some sleep. I’m fine,” he lied.

For the third time, Mikey offered his own bed. And for the third time, Peepers refused. “Your house, your bed. The couch is probably more comfortable, anyway,” he joked.

He tried to smile. It felt more like a grimace.

Mikey tried to say something, but realized he wouldn’t win. He shrugged in a resigned sort of way. “See you in the a.m." He stopped in the doorway. "Night, big bro.”

Peepers only managed a kind of hoarse grunt. The door closed, and Mikey was gone. Alone in the darkness, Peepers sank back on the sofa with a heavy sigh. The artificial smile vanished. He rubbed his eyelids with both hands, trying to banish the throbbing migraine. He’d cried himself out in the shower. And given himself a doozy of a headache. He was beyond heartbroken and too exhausted to care. There was nothing to look forward to. Nothing but a long and miserable night trying to sleep on his little brother’s lumpy couch.

Peepers sighed again. All this fuss over a stupid race. But was it really the race?

Things had been going south for the past few weeks. Hater was getting restless. He was bored. Evil overlords didn’t sit back and let life pass them by. And Peepers wasn’t ready to get back out there. Not just yet. He wanted to take things slowly. Give himself a little more time to recover from the Dominator incident. Hater’s thirst for life and Peepers’ reluctance had driven a wedge between them. Barely three months after, and Hater was back on the go. Chomping at the bit to see what trouble he could get into.

Hater had next to no patience. He was done taking it easy and was on the hunt for fresh adventures. He had hit the ground running, and had left Peepers in the dust. Hater was tired of waiting. Tired of sitting around all the time. 

 _Tired of me_ , Peepers thought miserably. _How did he bounce back so easily? Should we really not be dating?_ Am _I boring?_

Peepers shook himself. No point wrestling with that. He wiped a tear from his eye and pulled the moonrock out of his pocket, using light from the end table behind him to examine it. It was decent size. About two pounds, and studded throughout with delicate crystals. Peepers turned it over in his hand. The light caught the crystals, making the stone shimmer and flash. Turning it into a breathtaking kaleidoscope that sparkled from deep purple to palest pink and every color in between. It was beautiful. It was amazing. And the sight of it made him sick to his stomach.

Peepers stared miserably at the moonrock. _It wasn’t worth all the trouble. He hates me now. It wasn’t worth it. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Swallowing past the hard lump in his throat, he killed the light and placed the rock on the coffee table. Punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape, Peepers rolled onto his side. He couldn't settle. He rumpled the sheets. Rolled over. Flipped the pillow over onto the cool side. Flexed his toes. Rolled over again. In all the years of working together, Peepers had never imagined, never even considered, leaving Hater's side. Let alone over something so stupid. First and foremost, they were friends. Best friends. They butted heads, yes. Did they fight? All the time. But at the end of the day, their love for each other won out. Dominator hadn't broken them up. Wander hadn't stopped them. Tripped them up, yes. But stopped them? No. Never.

Flat on his back, he stared blankly at the ceiling, replaying the fight over and over again in his mind. _“If you hadn’t been so boring lately…I don’t need you to protect me…I can fight my own fights…maybe we shouldn’t be dating!”_

A sob rose in his throat.  _“I don’t need you!”_

 _But I need you._ Bitter and heartbroken, Peepers rolled to the other side. Something cold brushed his chest. The necklace. Their Best Buds necklace. Peepers examined the charm, cut in the shape of a half-heart.  _Ironic. The one alien I can’t live without. My best friend._ _What if he hates me?_  Peepers wondered desperately. _I can't go back. But I can’t spend the rest of my life on my little brother’s couch, either._

The knowledge sat heavy on his heart. Peepers gave the locket a tight squeeze. Too exhausted to sleep, he curled into the fetal position. He'd never considered abandoning Hater. Ever. You didn't give up on friends. Never gave up on people you loved.

And, whatever his faults, Peepers loved Hater. Loved him more than anything. Loved him as a friend. As a boyfriend. Loved the way he snorted when he laughed. The way he talked in his sleep. Hater could be a huge pain in the butt. But Peepers loved him anyway. The arrogance bordering on outright stupidity. And Peepers knew him well enough to know the pain behind the facade.

Hater was unsure of himself. Doubted himself. And their shared insecurities was what made the relationship so strong. They opened up to each other. Got to know each other. Peepers told Hater things he'd never told anyone else before. Hater knew him best. Out of everyone on the Skullship, everyone in his life, Peepers loved Hater the most. They boosted each other up. Knew exactly what to say and what to do to turn a bad day right around. It was one of the perks of being friends. Boyfriends. Supported each other through thick and thin. Side-by-side. No matter what.

Dating him was a dream come true. Peepers treasured every precious moment he spent with Hater. All those nights wrestling and play-fighting. Soft, wonderfully sweet cuddles. Staying up all night watching movies. Planning invasions with their figurines. When it stopped being awkward. When it became us. Arguing about anything and everything. Nagging Hater to pick up after himself. Curling up together. How Hater always comforted him after a bad nightmare.

 _And there’s been plenty of those after Dominator._ Peepers shuddered and held the locket until his hand went numb. There was so much at stake. So much to lose. Peepers squeezed his eye shut and swallowed a howl of anguish.  _What am I gonna do?!_


	11. Chapter 11

“You look awful,” Mikey said. “Did you sleep all right?”

Peepers shrugged. Truth was, he hadn’t slept at all. Hater’s voice echoed horribly in his mind whenever he closed his lids. 

“I’m f-fine,” Peepers said around a huge yawn. "Just dandy."

Mikey raised an eyelid. Peepers knew he wasn’t buying it. But Mikey didn’t argue. His only response was to grip Peepers’ shoulder and nod. 

Peepers patted his arm gratefully. _Good old Mikey._

“Let’s get some breakfast,” Mikey said. He gazed around the living room. At the rumpled sheet Peepers had been sleeping on. The terrible TV ads. “It’ll do you good. C’mon.”

Peepers threw on his clean uniform and reluctantly followed him out.

“You’ll like this place,” Mikey assured him as they drove.

 _I’m not hungry._ Peepers stared miserably out the window.  _I miss Hater._

His stomach was hollow. At the same time, it felt like he’d swallowed a bag of rocks. He felt puny, useless. Inadequate.

“Best eggs this side of the Ionic Starbelt,” Mikey kept going.

Peepers let him babble. His heart sat heavy in his chest. Just like the moonrock stuffed in his pocket.  _Grop, I miss Hater. But I can’t go home. Can I? What if he hates me? I can never go back._

But he couldn’t spend the rest of his life running. Sleeping on Mikey’s lumpy couch. Hiding from the greatest thing that ever happened to him.  _I'm homesick, not hungry! But Hater can't stand me._ All his conviction from the previous night had vanished. Strangled by a fresh surge of panic.Peepers wanted to scream, but his throat was too dry. _Ugh,_   _I’m so confused!_

“Here we are,” Mikey chirruped.

He cut the engine and got out. Peepers didn’t move. Mikey came back, looking concerned. “Hey, you OK?” 

When Peepers didn't reply, Mikey gripped his shoulder. "Hey, it's OK," Mikey said gently. "It's gonna be OK. You’ll see.”

Blinking very hard, Peepers gulped. He patted his brother's hand, and Mikey released him.  “Yeah,” Peepers grunted. “Let’s…let’s eat.”

It took all his resolve to get up and follow his brother inside. They sat in a corner, away from the main crowd. It was noisy. Peepers ignored the chatter and stared at the formica tabletop. An obnoxiously chipper waitress asked what they’d be having. Mikey ordered for him. Two cheddar and bacon omelets and a pile of flapjacks. The other diners sat there, chattering and laughing. Blissfully unaware of the pain slashing Peepers apart from the inside out. 

Peepers buried his eye in his fists, muffling a sob.  _Why is everything so normal? My whole world is falling apart, and they're all sitting here, laughing!_

Mikey didn’t say anything, and Peepers was grateful. They sat in silence until their offensively bright waitress reappeared, food in hand. Mikey seized his fork and dove right in. Heaving a sigh, Peepers half-picked up his own fork.The eggs looked delicious. The pancakes were puffy and drenched in sticky, sweet-smelling syrup. It made him sick. Peepers silently poured himself some coffee. It had the consistency of black sludge and smelled like despair. And burnt. It was burnt. Peepers wrinkled his lid. He scowled at the sluggish brew bubbling in the chipped mug and pushed it away. 

“Since when do you say no to coffee?” Mikey asked through a mouthful of pancake.

Peepers propped his retina up and stared miserably into the steam. “I’m not hungry.”

“You miss him, huh?” Mikey asked gently. 

“Miss him?" Peepers bristled. "Ha! I don’t…”

The words died in his throat. Peepers looked away, blinking back tears.  _We haven’t been apart like this in months._ _What if he doesn’t want me back?_

For the first time, Peepers imagined his life without Hater. His heart cracked. It brought tears to his eye. He couldn't bear the thought. How many times had he woken up screaming, drenched in sweat? And every time, Hater was right there. There to hold him close. Every single time. Hater was right there. Holding him close until Peepers fell asleep, warm and safe.

 _Worse, what if I go back to work?_ Peepers shuddered. He imagined walking past Hater in the hall. Saw the frozen expression and the curled lip. The thought made his heart stop.  _I’ll never be close to him again. It’ll be just like before-but worse. So, so much worse._

Waking up to an empty bed. Eating alone.

“Of course I miss Hater,” Peepers said in a small voice. He folded his arms and laid his eye across them. He stared miserably into the distance, swamped by pain and bitterness and despair and heartache.

“So, what are you gonna do about it?” Mikey asked.

He sipped his orange juice loudly.

Peepers swallowed hard. _Hater does that!_ He silently weighed his options. _Run and hide. Face him like a man. Run. Spend the rest of my life wondering. But what if he doesn’t want me back?_

Peepers wrapped a hand around the chain. Best Buds. His half of their necklace. His half of them.  _My half of a promise._

Planning invasions. Roughhousing together. The warmth in Hater's face when he finally admitted his feelings. The way he felt being next to Hater. With him. That bubble of joy that rose in his chest whenever they held hands. The sense of accomplishment and self-worth. The absolute certainty of knowing his place. He belonged with Hater. 

Peepers had never been a quitter. Never cut and run from anything in his life. Not Dominator. Not Awesome. Not Wander. The idea of running away from everything was outrageous. Unthinkable. Out of the question. Commander Peepers did not cut and run. This was everything he'd ever dreamed of. The one alien he was sure he loved. He couldn't. He wouldn't. The Empire they'd worked so hard to build. The soldiers he'd spent countless hours training. All his dreams of planetary conquest and galaxy-wide domination. They'd come through it all. Side by side. Their lives, their very identities, were so entwined, it was impossible to imagine life without Hater. The thought of losing him stung worse than an Arachnomorph bite. Fight or no fight, Peepers loved him.

"And I'll always love him," Peepers whispered. _He's my best friend. Boyfriend or not. He'll always be my friend._

They had been friends for years. Two halves of the same whole. They balanced each other out. Brains to brawn. Shared insecurites. Mutual desire for galactic supremacy. Hater needed Peepers told organize the plans. Peepers needed Hater's powers and evil presence. But there was more to it than that. They didn't just need each other for work. They needed each other because they didn't have anyone else. 

Nobody understood Peepers like Hater did. Peepers told Hater secrets he'd never told anyone else. And, every time, Hater listened. They had so much in common.They both loved cheesy rom-coms. Hated the color purple. And they needed each other. 

Peepers twirled the heart between his fingers and heaved a gusty sigh.  _What am I supposed to do?_

The answer was simple. Go back home and support the man he loved. If not as a lover, than as his right-hand man. Just like before. They didn't have to date. But as his friend, as his second-in-command, it was Peepers' obligation to stand by Hater's side. No matter what.

Peepers squared his shoulders.Something stirred in his chest, a fiercely burning fire that made Peepers a Commander worthy of the helmet. “I’m gonna go home,” Peepers said, so loudly, half the diner went quiet. Mikey sank low in their booth. He looked half-embarrassed, half-impressed. 

Peepers went brick-red. “I’ll tell ya what I’m gonna do,” he said in a low, fierce whisper. “I’m gonna drink this coffee, and I'm gonna talk to him.” Commander Peepers raised the mug and downed the brackish brew in one gulp. “Cheers.”

Cheap diner coffee had never tasted so good.


	12. Chapter 12

With no one left to vent to, Hater slunk back to the safety of his dark room. Wander and Sylvia were gone. Probably retreated into the cell block. That’s where they usually crashed when they slept on the ship. Hater collapsed on the bed and glared sullenly at the ceiling. As if on cue, Captain Tim flew at him.

He must’ve been hiding under the bed, because he was covered in dust and stale food crumbs. He gnawed furiously on Hater’s arm. A horrible, rasping croak rose from between the pointed fangs. “Aw, happy to see me, Tim?” Hater cooed huskily. 

Fighting the sting of tears, he scratched his Arachnomorph’s head. Tim purred even louder. “You’d never desert me, would you, Tim-Tim?” Hater asked. “Who’s the best, loyalist boy in the whole galaxy? You are. You are!”

 _Second-loyalist,_ Hater amended. Nobody could hold a candle to his boyfriend. Suddenly, he didn't feel like wrestling.

Tim shrieked. He vanished into Hater’s cloak with a swift clatter of legs. Droplets of acid flew as he chewed lovingly on Hater’s collarbone. “Stop it!” Hater swatted at the bulge under his cloak. "Not now, all right? I'm not in the mood."

Tim seemed to understand. He abandoned his play and settled on Hater's shoulder, purring throatily. Hater blinked. Something was stuck to his glove. Long, deadly, and glistening with corrosive acid. A fang! An Arachnomorph fang!

“See? What did I tell ya, Peepers?” Hater punched the air. “Ha! Told ya Tim's got us covered! That's one item to cross off the...off the list!"

_What's the point?_

Without Peepers, it was a hollow victory.

At the sound of the Watchdog’s name, Tim scampered to the door. A hard lump formed in Hater’s throat. It was a game. One of their favorites. Hater and Tim loved to ambush Peepers when he got off work. Together, they'd hide, crouching in wait for the Commander they loved so much. Under the bed. In the closet. Anywhere there was room. The tub was Hater's hiding place of choice. Tim preferred it up in the air duct. The second the door opened, Hater and Tim would divebomb him, kissing and nuzzling the little Watchdog until he gave in.

The lump in his throat made swallowing difficult. Blinking hard, Hater walked over to Tim. “No, bud. Here's not here."

Tim whimpered pitifully. He pawed at the closed door. A tear ran down Hater's cheekbone. First one, then another, and another. More and more fell as Tim continued to scratch at the door. "It’s over. He’s gone. He left," Hater whispered miserably. "He’s never coming back. And it's all my fault!"

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Hater folded his arms and glared at the opposite wall. Alone, he could admit it to himself. Might not able to say it out loud. But he could sure blame himself. There was no denying it. He'd screwed up. Big. Time.

He'd been fooling himself. Denying the truth he knew and everyone else knew, too. Peepers was gone. And it was all his fault. 

He missed Peepers so much, it made his marrow ache.  _I drove him off. This is all my fault. And I promised to always be there for him._ Overcome by guilt, Hater buried his face in his hands.  _P_ _eepers, wherever you are, I’m so sorry! Stay safe. And come back!_

No one was here. No one was watching. No reason to pretend. It was safe. Hater burst into hysterical sobs. He couldn't help it. He curled into a ball and sobbed himself hoarse. Huge, gut-busting sobs that made his ribs ache. Snot ran down his nose. Tears streamed from his eyes and flooded his mouth. Bitterly cold and incredibly salty. Another surge of guilt crashed over him, forcing him to suck in a huge gasp of air. _Oh, Peepers I miss you!_

Tim stayed at his side, sharing his misery as Hater rocked back and forth, choking on his own snot. He cried until there was nothing left. His eyes burned, but no more tears came. He'd done it. Officially cried himself out. That was a new one. There was no point in staying awake. Without showering, Hater pulled the covers over his head. Tim settled next to him, their heads resting on the same pillow.

In spite of himself, Hater kept expecting Peepers to walk in the door. To come marching back home. But, of course, he didn’t.

The door stayed closed.

Hater dug the helmet out from under the bed and put in the space where Peepers usually curled up. As if that stupid helmet could somehow fill the chasm. Hater wracked his brain. Trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. 

Peepers wasn't himself lately. Ever since the Dominator fiasco, he'd changed. The most exciting thing he did these days was get up and make coffee. He spent half his time glued to Hater's hip. Like a living shadow. He was twice as neurotic and even jumpier than usual. Anything from a phone ringing to a sudden shout sent Peepers into a full-blown panic. If someone came up behind him, Peepers screamed and ran. More than once, Hater found him in a closet, curled up in a tight ball, sobbing into his fists. Hater chalked it up to nerves. Figured he'd get over it in time. But as one month became two, things didn't improve. They got worse. 

Hater loved Peepers. Really, he did. But this was getting ridiculous. He couldn't do  _anything_  anymore. Wherever he went, Peepers was right there. Policing his fun and breathing down his neck. Tie your shoes. Walk, don’t run. Stay close. Hater’s already dangerously thin patience waned with each passing day. Evil villains didn’t have time to be careful. Danger was right in the job description. And he wasn’t totally helpless. Hater _could_ fight. He was equipped with deadly and highly destructive lightning powers. But Peepers _insisted_ on treating him like a child. It got old after a while. Play it safe? Evil overlords didn't do safe.

They argued over everything, no matter how small or trivial. They always had. The best way to destabilize a kingdom. Socks left out on the bed. Tim eating the latest plans. Hater not paying attention on the battlefield. What to have for lunch. Hater didn’t mind the bickering. Peepers wasn’t a pushover. Never had been. It was one of the things Hater loved most about him. Having an always-obedient army was no fun. Someone to stand up to him? Now, _that_ was fun.

The Watchdog could be a missive pain the the butt. He was quick to criticize. And even quicker to cuddle up. Hater loved snatching little moments with him. Wrestling in the bone pit. Fist bumps after blowing up a moon. Slowly lowering their enemies into a pool of bubbling lava. The odd snuggle. A quick kiss when they passed each other in the hallway. Hater’s favorite was to nudge Peepers with his shoulder. Half the time, Peepers would stagger and almost fall.

And no matter how many times they fought, no matter what happened, the support never wavered. Peepers was always at his side. They'd been through a lot together. Pride. Pain. Sorrow and joy. Victory and defeat. The small wins and the big wins. No matter what, Peepers was right there. Always.

Hater pulled the helmet into his arms, hugging it very tightly. This lump of unfeeling metal was a poor substitute for the warmth Hater was so used to cradling. A helmet didn't cuddle back. It was hard and cold. Not soft. Not family.

Not Peepers.

Another surge of guilt crashed over him. Hater buried his forehead against the unforgiving metal. It still smelled like Peepers.  _What did I do?_

“Oh, man." Hater choked on a sob. “I really screwed up this time, Tim.”

Tim rested his chin on the helmet and whined, long and low. “I know,” Hater said in a thick voice. “I miss him, too.”


	13. Chapter 13

Breakfast on the Skullship next morning was not enjoyable. Wander and Sylvia joined Hater in his room. They hadn't knocked. Just waltzed right in and plopped down on his bed. But he forgave the intrusion. There was food. Nobody spoke much. They sat in a circle, shoulders hunched, not making eye contact. Hater tried to force a little food into his mouth. Really, he did. It was impossible. It tasted like grit. Wander had his face buried in a colorful fruit bowl. Seeds flew as he chewed and chomped. On his left, Sylvia attacked a mountain of golden-brown toast. Crumbs landed on the comforter. Hater couldn't summon the energy to comment.

His mind was buzzing. He poked at his cereal, not really hungry. Between nightmares about Peepers rejecting him and heartbreaking flashes of their rain-soaked fight, he hadn't slept well. Exhaustion made his eyes sting. More than anything, Hater wanted to find Peepers. Wanted to hold his boy close and never let go.

 _How would he take that?_  Hater wondered helplessly. _What if he hates me? He hates me. Doesn’t he?_

Wander broke the silence. “Eat a little something, Hater.”

Hater eyed the unappetizing mush at the bottom of his cereal bowl. “’M not hungry.”

“Trust me, you’ll feel a lot better,” Wander said. “Whatcha in the mood for? Toast? Bacon and eggs?" Hater shook his head, not saying a word. "Ham?" Wander offered. "Maybe some pancakes? Just let me know!”

“I could go for some toast,” Sylvia put in. “But I left the jam. You know the stuff, buddy. Blorberry Surprise. We got it back on Okeydokia. It’s back in the cell block.”

Wander immediately perked up. He dropped to one knee, clasping Sylvia’s hand in both his own. “Fear not, my hungry friend. I shall return to our sleeping quarters and be right back with your desired condiment. Wander, away!”

Fist raised, he raced for the door, making whooshing noises under his breath. The hydraulics hissed shut behind him. Hater refused to look at Sylvia. Their argument was still fresh in his mind. Instead, he swirled the dregs of cereal with a spoon. It made an unappetizing slurping sound.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvia said abruptly.

Hater was taken aback. The spoon fell as he stared at her. “What?”

“About last night. About what I said. I’m sorry. That was _way_ outta line. I know how much you care about him. This can’t be easy for you.”

“Oh. Yeah, well, it’s not,” Hater admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “But the stuff you said, you were right. Peepers loves me. I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

“No,” Sylvia agreed. “What made you even go on this stupid race-scavenger hunt thing?” she asked through a mouthful of toast.

The overlord sighed heavily. “He’s been so _down_ lately. It was supposed to be a little trip,” Hater mumbled. “Y’know, take our minds off it. Thought it would cheer him up. Fat lot of good it did," he added bitterly. "And now, I might never see him again."

“But your heart was in the right place. And that’s what counts.” Wander was back. He passed the jam to Sylvia, who spread it eagerly on a half-eaten piece of toast. “I’m sure Peepers will understand if you just tell him that,” he went on. “It was probably just too much too fast. Think about it from his point of view.”

Hater hadn't thought of that before. Frowning in concentration, he tried to imagine how Peepers was feeling. “The whole Dominator thing. It really messed with him,” Hater said slowly. "He doesn't like to talk about it. But he's been really nervous lately. Like, extra nervous."

“Of course!” Sylvia’s gaze sharpened. “How could he _not_ be nervous? It was traumatic for all of us!”

“Don’t remind me,” Hater growled.

They glared at each other for a second. Wander cleared his throat. They looked at him. “It’s gonna take time for us all to recover,” Wander said. “You can’t expect Peepers to bounce right back. It only been a few months.”

“Three,” Hater muttered.

Sylvia’s eyes flashed. “Exactly! Cut the little guy some slack.” She softened a little as she went on. “Hater, I know you care about him. But you gotta give him some time to recover.”

Hater suddenly thought back to the enormous blaster stuffed under the passenger seat in the van. _I’m lucky he packed so light._

He stared into the cereal drifting around the bottom of his bowl. "Did I rush this?” he asked anxiously.

Sylvia applied another layer of jam to a fresh piece of toast. “Probably.” She didn't sound accusing. Just matter-of-fact. 

“No wonder he’s on edge all the time,” Hater muttered. “I didn’t think he was still so shell-shocked. I mean, _you_ guys look fine.”

A shadow flickered in Wander’s eyes. He buried his face in a melon rind, obviously to avoid answering.

Sylvia’s lip tightened. “Appearances can be deceiving,” she said shortly. “ _We_ weren’t burned. She didn’t torture _us_. Just dumped us off and went looking for Peepers.”

“I thought he’d be over it by now,” Hater said.

“Are _you_ over it?” Wander asked, his mouth full.

With a pang, Hater recalled the sleepless nights. The agony of not knowing where Peepers was. What Dominator was doing to him. Sylvia was right. The damage in Hater’s case had been pure psychological. And there had been emotional torment on everyone’s part. Gallons of it. Hater shuddered violently. The physical scars had faded. The emotional ones? Not so much.

“No,” he admitted in a whisper. “No, I’m not.”

“These things take time,” Wander said in a small voice, his cheeks still packed with melon. “We’re still recovering.”

“He keeps lookin’ over his shoulder,” Hater muttered. “He’s always been nervous. Just the way Peeps is. But never like this… Poor guy’s a walkin’ bundle of nerves.”

It suddenly made sense. How Peepers screamed whenever someone came up behind him. Why he refused to go anywhere without a blaster. _No wonder he’s become so overprotective._

“Something so traumatic, it affects everyone differently.” Wander said.

It _had_ impacted them all in different ways, Hater realized. _He_ repressed everything. Stuffed it away so it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Peepers, on the other hand, had become twice as neurotic and even more controlling. He wasn’t trying to be a killjoy, Hater finally understood. He was trying to make sure nobody else got hurt. All out of love.

Hater coughed, fighting the sting in his throat. “Thanks for explaining. I get it now.” A huge sigh shook the brawny shoulders. “Man. I really screwed up this time.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Sylvia said bracingly. “You didn’t know.”

“You weren’t there, but you still suffered,” Wander said. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“We all did,” Hater mumbled.

For a second, everyone wiped their eyes.

Once he’d recovered his composure, Wander laid his fruit bowl aside. “Let’s take it from the top. You called him boring?”

Hater flushed neon green. “I didn’t mean to! Well, I did, b-but I was just mad!” He closed his eyes, fighting the wail trapped in his chest. “He’s not boring. He’s wonderful. And I pushed him too hard. I hurt him. Bad. I didn't mean to, but I did! And he hates me!"

"Now, Hater, that's not true." Wander patted his arm consolingly.

Hater wiped his streaming nose. "What am I gonna do?!”

“If we can find him, we can fix it,” Wander said. “Any ideas where he could have gone?”

Hater shrugged. It wasn’t like Peepers to go running home with his tail tucked between his legs. It was hard to imagine him slinking back to his parents. Besides, if Peepers _had_ gone home, Elara would've been calling nonstop. Badgering them to talk it out. But his mother-in-law hadn’t called. So it was safe to rule them out. Wherever Peepers was now, Hater knew he was safe. Or at least hoped he was. Peepers was stubborn. Hater knew from experience just how low Peepers would stoop when he was pissed off. But mad or not, Hater still missed him bitterly.

“I don’t know,” Hater finally admitted. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Sylvia assured him.

She flicked Hater briefly with her long tail. Scales rasped against the cloak. She meant it to be consoling. But it wasn't the same. A hard lump formed in the skeleton's throat. Peepers knew exactly how to comfort him. Kisses and cuddles. Soft words. Extra-tight hugs. Ice cream.

Hater buried his face in his hands and moaned. "Oh, man, I’ve lost him for good!”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Sylvia said. “He’ll find his way home in his own time.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hater scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “How do you know?”

Wander just smiled. “Oh, Hater. Peepers _loves_ you. And he _will_ come back. Just give it little time. One little fight won’t change that.”

“What about a great big one?”

“Don’t give up so quickly,” Sylvia advised. “Peepers never gave up on you. And believe me, you try his patience! But I’ve never, ever seen a more wonderful and dedicated friend. He’ll come home when he’s good and ready. It'll be on his own terms, but he _will_ come back to you. Just like he always does.”

Her nonchalance made everything worse. She was so...casual. _Doesn't she know that my life's gonna be ruined if Peepers never comes home?!_

“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Hater snarled through clenched teeth. “He’s the greatest. I’d _die_ for Peepers! He’s sweet and brave and and…and…” Hater pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep breath. “I screwed up," he said through his fingers. His gloves trapped the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, trapping them. "Big-time. And it hurts like _hell_ to think that he might not come back! and it’s all my fault! That he might…might not…that we…”

They waited patiently while Hater composed himself.

"I miss him!" Hater wailed. The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other in his despair. “I love him! And if he hates me, I don’t what I’m gonna do!”

“Apologize,” Sylvia said, biting into a piece of toast.

Hater took the hand away from his face and stared at her. “What?”

“You heard me. You want Peepers back? Apologize to him.”

Hater glanced from one to the other. “It’s that simple?”

“The best solutions are the simplest ones,” Wander said as Sylvia slathered on more jam. “Apologies can be great things.”

Wander beamed. The enthusiasm in his face was painful. But nowhere near as painful as losing Peepers. “Talk with your heart, Hater. Not your mouth. Let your love guide you.”

Much as it sounded like hippie advice, Hater had to admit he had a point. “I’ll give it a shot, I guess,” he said at last, repressing a shudder.

“That’s the spirit!" Wander said. “Good. Now, I want you to picture Peepers. Really imagine him. Find that spark you share. Keep it in mind. You’re trying to express a deep emotion here. You’ve gotta dig deep, Hater. Dig deep down and find a way to show Peepers how much you love him and just how sorry you are.”

“OK.” Hater sucked in a huge gulp. “OK, here goes. Peepers, I love you, and I just want you to know that I’m sorr...”

The word fizzled out halfway through. Hater’s face burned.

“That’s all right. Try again,” Wander said encouragingly. “Be vulnerable. Be sweet.”

“Mean it,” Sylvia advised.

Hater rolled his eyes. “This is stupid.”

“Let’s try something different,” Wander said. “Pretend I’m Peepers.”

Hater eyed him skeptically. This gangly orange spoon was a poor substitute for his Watchdog. Wander smiled. The optimism was painful. Hater shivered.

“Give it a try.”

“While we’re young,” Sylvia grunted.

“Don’t rush me!” Hater snapped.

He drew in a deep breath. _OK. Focus_ , he told himself. _Think like Wander. Think like Wander._ He shuddered again.

Peepers was straightforward. He couldn’t manage this much positivity. Never in a million years. But if he wanted Peepers back...

“Peepers, listen. I just wanted to say, I’m s…” Hater swallowed. Tried again. “Sor-rr…” The word ended a long, drawn-out hiss. Spit flew as he struggled to say it. “I’m sorr-” Hater was going blue in the face with effort. Bent almost double, fists clenched he wrestled with the words that refused to come.  _Why is it so hard to say?!_

More spit flew from his teeth as he struggled to form the syllables. Hater sucked in more air and tried yet again. “I’m sor…eeee!”

“It’s not that difficult,” Sylvia said exasperatedly. “Just spit it out!”

Hater rounded on her, flecks of spit clinging to his jaw. “I’m trying!” he snarled.

Her eyes flashed. “Try _harder_.”

A growl rumbled in Hater’s throat. _What does she want from me? I’m doing my best!_

Peepers would know. He knew how hard it was for him to say _that_ word. Hater could only go so far.

A knife-sharp memory flashed though his mind. Peepers sitting in the back of a cab. Sourdough’s fleet right behind them as Hater struggled to apologize. And Peepers had just sighed. “Close enough.” But there had been affection behind the exasperation.

Close enough. It might've been close enough last time. But that was then. This was now. If he wanted his boy back, he'd really have to nail this whole apology thing. Hater coughed painfully. Bile rose in his chest. _That’s not good enough!_

“Let’s try a different approach.” Wander suggested. “What does he mean to you?”

Hater closed his eyes. “Everything.”

That was the truth. Plain and simple. For the first time, Hater understood just how much he stood to lose. He depended on Peepers for so much. Peepers was his shoulder to cry on. The one person Hater could really talk to. Being able to talk to him about anything was one of the best parts. And Peepers _listened._ Every time. He’d listen to Hater and offer his input. Even when Hater refused to take his advice, Peepers always comforted him. 

It was the little quirks that drove him nuts. Tiny idiosyncrasies that had been so easily overlooked but meant the universe to him now. The way Peepers arched his back whenever he was tickled. The constant nagging. The way he twitched in his sleep. The hour-long presentations and endless meetings about stupid stuff. Formulating strategies. Being their for each other. The knowledge that no matter what happened, what Hater put them through, whatever danger he got himself into, Peepers would always be right there. Reliable and unshakable.

Hater got it. He finally understood just how much was at risk. Not just love. The best friend he’d ever had. And so, so much more than that. Peepers was his whole world.

 _And I took him for granted._ A dark, gaping hole tugged at his bony heart.  _ _No more good-night kisses. No more pillow fights. No more cuddles. No more video games. No more us._  _His head spun. __Who’s gonna watch cheesy movies with me? Who’s gonna make me smile when I’m down? What am I gonna do?!__

Peepers was his best friend. The one person Hater was sure he loved. Would do anything for. 

Even turn to their greatest enemy for help.

“Hater,” somebody said from a long way off. “Hater, your phone.”

Hater started. “What?”

“Your phone," Wander said again. "It’s ringing.”

For the first time, Hater noticed the flashing light. “Incoming call from…Commander Peepers!”

 _He’s calling?_ Hater froze. _Maybe it’s a mistake. Or worse. He’s calling to break up!_

Hater spat out a mouthful of milk. It cascaded across everyone’s faces and splashed over the bed, turning Wander’s fur white and drenching the cloak. With milk dripping down his chin, Hater gawked at the others. “What do I do?!”

“Pick it up!” Wander said encouragingly. “Go on!”

Sylvia wiped milk out of her eyes. “We’ll be outside,” she said firmly. She paused in the doorway. “Good luck.”

Wander didn’t move. “Syl, we gotta stay! What if-”

“Let them work it out on their own,” Sylvia growled, and seized his arm. “Come on!”

Wander pawed feverishly at the ground, still shouting advice as he was dragged away, his nails screeching across the tile. “Take turns! Use your words!"

The door slammed, plunging the room into a silence so complete, it was deafening.

Breathing hard, Hater picked up the phone. Peepers looked utterly terrified. Like he hadn’t expected Hater too accept the call. For an endless second, they stared at each other. The eye Hater knew so well was red and puffy. Obviously from crying. The air between them crackled with tension. Sweat drenched Hater's palms. His mind had gone totally blank. Everything they'd just worked on, everything they'd practiced, had been flushed out by a surge of molten terror.

“Hey,” Hater said. It was the only thing he could thing of to say. His cheeks went green.  _Wow. Impressive. Way to show that prowess._

The Watchdog's expression was wary. “Hey.”

They relapsed into a painfully tangible silence. Hater couldn't think straight. Everything they'd ever worked for. The Empire. The Army. His happiness. It all came down to this.

Unable to stand it, Hater burst out, "Peepers, I'm sorry!"

That did it. That broke the dam. They started yelling, practically screaming at each other in their panic to get it all out.

“Didn’t want this!”

“Grop, I miss you!”

“You gotta come back!”

 _"I love you!"_ they shouted at the same time.

Tears ran unchecked down Hater’s face. Peepers was crying, too. They stared at each other, lost for words.

“One at time, flabdrassit!” came the muffled shout from behind the door.

It was suddenly much harder to breathe. "Just...just hear me out," Hater managed to rasp.

"Good ahead." Peepers sniffed and at wiped his eye. "I'm listening."

It took a few tries for Hater to find his voice. "Peepers." He swallowed. Coughed. Swallowed again. "About...about what I said..." The words wouldn't come. He shrugged unhappily.

Peepers took the hint. Hater tried to force down a little oxygen as Peepers buried his retina in his hands. “It’s my fault,” he said around a sob. “This whole thing was my fault! I should’ve been there for you! If hadn’t been so flarping _boring_ , this wouldn’t have happened! It was Dominator…I’ve been nervous! But I’m always nervous,” he wailed. "It's all I'm good for!"

"No!" Hater couldn't stomach the pain in his voice. "Peepers, don't say that!"

The Watchdog ignored him. “I worry, OK?! I can't help it! I know better than anyone how incredible you are, you’re an amazing fighter, but Awesome cheats. I’m a worrier, it’s what I do!"

“Peepers, I was just mad!" Shame glittered behind the tears in Hater's green eyes. "When I said you were boring…Peepers, baby, I was just mad! I mean… I _did_ mean it, but I didn’t _mean_ _it_ , mean it…”

"Hater, please believe me, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad. I swear! I didn’t mean to mess up your reputation!” Peepers said, and his voice cracked. “I was only trying to help!”

Hater cut him short. “Reputation? Pfft! Who cares about some stupid reputation?! Fixed it once, I can do it again. But I can’t replace my baby boy." Snot dribbled from his nasal cavity in a sticky, phlegmy tide as he went on in a low rumble. "I can’t replace you, Peeps. Don’t you know how special you are?”

“I’m not special!” Peepers blurted out. “I’m boring! You said it yourself! I just want you to be happy! Even if it’s not with me. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“But I _am_ happy, Peepers.” Hater couldn’t stop his knees knocking. It felt like his throat was being squeezed. “I’ve always been happy with you. Don’t you know how much you mean to me?” The last words came in a whisper. “I love you, Peepers.”

Hater opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and exploded into hysterical sobs. Tears streamed from his eyes and snot bubbled in his nose, “I’m sorry! ” he gabbled out between gut-wrenching hiccups. “I nuh-never loved someone as much as I luh-love you! And that stupid race, stupid Awesome, I almost lost you for g-good! I don’t wanna break up over something so stupid! You’re the best thing in my life and called you boring, and I’m sorry! Peepers, you gotta buh-believe me, I didn’t m-mean it! I take it back! Peepers, I’m so, so sorry!"

He was crying so hard, he almost didn't hear the whisper. "Apology accepted."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry it's been so long since the last update!

Hater couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He gaped at Peepers, openmouthed. A bubble of snot popped in the silence. It couldn’t be that easy. It just couldn’t. He must be hearing things. _Did he really just say what I think he did?_

“What? You’re serious?” Hater hastily wiped his dripping nose. “Really, Peeps? You really mean it? You forgive me?”

“Of course.” The Watchdog’s eye was suspiciously wet. “Oh, Hater, I already have.”

Hater let out the breath he’d been holding in a long, rib-clattering sigh. “Thank Grop.”

He closed his eyes. Relief, absolute, magnificent, magnificent relief, crashed over him. Washing away the panic and terror. It was all right. Everything was going to be just fine.

“My boyfriend’s amazing!” Hater bellowed over his shoulder.

Muffled cheering rang out in the hall. Wander’s distinctive whoops suddenly stopped, as if Sylvia had clapped a hand over his mouth.

Hater suddenly hesitated. “We…we _are_ still dating, right? I mean, do ya still wanna?”

“More than anything,” Peepers said in the merest whisper. “Do you?”

“Are you kidding?! Of course!” Hater burst out. In spite of the tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes, Hater beamed. “I love you, Peeps.”

Peepers sniffled, chuckling, and wiped his eye. “I l-love you, too, big fella.”

Hater couldn’t conceal his delight. A broad grin split his skull practically in half. _I love you._ Those three words were suddenly musical. Magical.  _He doesn’t hate me. Peepers doesn’t hate me!_

The bedroom door crashed open. Hater jumped. Wander burst in. Joyful tears ran down his face. “That was _beautiful,_ Hater!” He threw his arms around Hater and sobbed unrestrainedly into his cloak. “See what happens when you use your words?”

Hater pulled the phone out of reach. So his tears wouldn’t short out the battery or something stupid like that.

Sylvia followed close behind, looking resigned. “I tried,” she mouthed to Hater. “But he just _had_ to get involved.”

“Is that Wander and Sylvia? Thought I recognized his voice.” Peepers rolled his eye. _“Use your words."_

A snort escaped Hater. “Yeah. They’ve kinda been…helpin’ me out. Put things in perspective.”

“How so?” Peepers blinked confusedly.

“Why you’ve been so…off lately. Since Dominator, I mean.”

A haunted glint crept into the Watchdog’s eye.

“No, no, no, not like that,” Hater added quickly. “I finally get it. The nightmares. The jumpiness. I get it. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t bein’ fair. What I said, calling you boring, it wasn’t right. It was a really stupid thing to say. Even for me. And I didn’t mean it. Peepers, buddy, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Easy big guy,” Peepers shushed soothingly. Hater closed his eyes, drinking the soft, familiar sound. “Take it easy. You’re gonna be fine. Everything’s gonna be just fine. There’s nothing to forgive. Stop beating yourself up.”

Wander quickly composed himself. Knocking Hater’s arm aside, he leaned in close to the phone, practically blocking the screen. “See? What did I tell you, Hater? A little apology goes a long way!”

Hater jumped. For a second, he’d forgotten the others were in the room.

“And you thought he hated you,” Sylvia said, with more than a touch of smugness. Her tail flicked out, catching Wander around the waist. “Back off, buddy. Give them some space.”

As Wander was dragged off the bed, a new voice spoke.

“Boom! Called it! See, Peepers? Told ya everything would be all right.”

“Mikey?” Hater blinked, surprised. So _that’s_ where Peepers had run off to. His little brother’s place. Hater felt a bit better. Peepers hadn’t taken off to the in-laws after all. He was safe, and, more importantly, with a non-judgmental family member. Someone they could trust.

A hand waved in front of the screen. Peepers ducked to avoid it. “Hey,” Mikey said.  “Long time, no talk. How’s it going?”

Hater rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, fine,” he said. “You?”

“Can’t complain. Same old, same old.”

"Ha!" Sylvia craned her neck. “Fine? Liar. This big galoot’s been crying all night. Begging for help. Don’t let him fool you, Peepers. He was so afraid it was over and you hated his guts. You’re all he talks about.”

“You really miss me that much?” Peepers whispered.

“That’s the understatement of a lifetime!” Sylvia cut in.

“I told you, big bro.” Mikey shoved Peepers playfully. Peepers almost dropped the phone. “He’s done nothing but mope since I picked him up last night,” he told Hater.

A bright pink flush eclipsed Peepers’ retina. It spread down his neck until his whole body glowed scarlet. “Shut _up!_ ” he hissed.

 “Ha! You think _that’s_ bad?” Wander counted off on his fingers. “This guy hasn’t showered, he hasn’t eaten-”

Cheeks burning, Hater looked away. Was it really that obvious? Of course he was miserable. Ten minutes ago, he thought his best friend hated his guts. Who wouldn’t be miserable with that hanging over their head?

Hater opened his mouth to reply, but Wander cut him off. “Are you kidding? He’s _miserable_ without you!”

Everyone laughed. Except Peepers. “Can you guys give us a few? Alone?”

Without a word, Sylvia grabbed Wander by the scruff and frogmarched him back outside.  “You’re both doin’ great!” he chirped as the door closed. “Really proud of you!”

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” Mikey said. A car door slammed. “A long walk.”

Once they were alone, Peepers asked the question again. “You really miss me that much?”

“Of course I miss you,” Hater said. “I thought after what happened…after what I said…I mean…”

There was an awkward silence. “I thought so, too,” Peepers admitted after a second or two. “I’m glad I was wrong, though.”

“Wow, you were wrong about something.” Hater grinned crookedly. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Shut up,” Peepers said, and they both laughed.

It was this was almost too good to be true. All the pain, agony, and mental torment, it was all evaporating as they sat there, laughing at themselves. At each other. Laughed together. Hater’s heart was lighter than air. _He forgave me! We’re still together!_

“I love you,” Hater said abruptly. “No matter what. I love you, Peepers.  After what happened, I was afraid you’d hate me.”

“Oh, no,” Peepers breathed. “No, no, no, no. I don’t hate you.”

“But I almost lost you.” Hater shifted guiltily. “Probably forever!”

Peepers actually laughed. “Come on, Hater. You know me better than that. No matter how hard you try. You can lose a fight, lose a leg, lose a bet. But no matter what happens, I’ll always love you." Emotion clouded his eye. "Always.”

“I’ve already lost an arm,” Hater joked. “So I’m off to a good start.”

“You know what I meant, stupid,” Peepers said, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Yeah, I did,” Hater admitted. “Where are you? I wanna get you home ASAP.”

“Don’t waste the gas, we’ll come to you,” Peepers told him. “Some hole-in-the-wall diner. Mikey just went in to pay. You want anything?”

“Just my boy back.” Hater flushed, surprised by his own sappiness.

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“It’s a date,” Hater said.

"See you soon," Peepers said. He blinked warmly. "I-"

Alarms started going off. Loud, pulsing ones. Hater jumped and dropped the phone. He scrabbled over the covers, fumbling for it. The screams and stampeding feet of his army rose from several floors below.

“What’s going on?” Peepers demanded. “What’s happening?!”

Hater stared around. The alarm’s warning light bathed everything red. “No idea,” he said. “Maybe something’s burning? Like me, when I’m trying to make toast.”

That couldn’t be it. The sprinklers weren’t active. If something was on fire, it would’ve tripped them.  _No, something’s up,_ Hater thought. He got off the bed. _And I’m gonna find out what._

Before he reached the door, Wander burst into the room. “Hater!” he gasped, eyes popping. “You gotta get down there!”

“What’s going on?!” Peepers snapped. “Somebody tell me!”

“It’s Awesome,” Wander gabbled.

“Awesome?” Peepers echoed in disbelief.

Hater bared his teeth. “What’s he want?”

“No clue. But Sylvia says he’s comin’ fast, weapons out.”

“Wander, get down to the hangar.” Peepers instantly took charge. Hater could’ve kissed him. “Assemble the Watchdogs, tell them to be on high alert. Got that? High alert. Until Hater gets down there, Sylvia’s in charge. Put the ship on lockdown. And, whatever happens, be careful. Both of you, stay safe. That’s an order!”

Wander saluted and raced away.

“Nice one,” Hater said.  “Listen, I gotta go! I’ll...I’ll call you back.”

“Just hold him off. I’m on my way!”

 _"No!"_ Hater shouted so loudly, Peepers winced. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. “Just stay put.”

Peepers bristled, about to argue. "I'm not-"

Hater drew a shaky breath. He stared into the eye he knew so well. The eye he knew better than his own name. “Peeps, sweetheart, I love you.”

Peepers lit up when he called him sweetheart. His eyelid crinkled at the edges. The delight was infectious. Hater fought to conceal the grin creeping over his mouth. “Peeps, I love you, but no. Just stay put, OK? There’s no time!” Hater forced himself to slow down. “I’ll call you later. OK, buddy? The second this is all over, I promise. I’ll call you.”

“I’m gonna hold you to it,” Peepers said. “Love you, too, big guy.”

“I’ll see you after I pound Awesome into the ground," Hater growled. He cracked his knuckles.

Peepers spoke sharply. “Not like that, you’re not.”

“What?” Hater glanced down at his rumpled, milk-sodden cloak. "What's wrong with me?"

Peepers jabbed a finger at the screen. “Remember? Scary, bad-guy stuff. Nobody’s gonna be afraid of a milk stain. Clean cloak. Now.”

“Whatever, fine.” Pretending to scowl, Hater stomped around the room. Deliberately making as much noise as possible. “I don’t see what milk has to do with it.”

“Power is in the presentation,” Peepers reminded him. “Wanna look good? Don’t go to a fight covered in food. Basic Evil Wardrobe 101.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hater pulled the cloak over his head and threw it aside. “I hear ya, Peepers. I hear ya.”

“On the bathroom floor,” Peepers said firmly. “Not on the carpet. Milk will soak into the fibers and make everything reek. I’d prefer our room didn’t smell like expired dairy. Is that so much to ask?” The words were rough, but there was an undercurrent of affection there.

“Typical,” Hater snorted. He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Picky, picky, picky.”

“I’m not picky, I’m selective,” Peepers countered. “Put the laundry in the bathroom. Please?” he added.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Hater tossed the soiled garment on the bathroom tile.

He stalked into the closet.

Hater propped the phone on the bed so Peepers could see. “Where are really good ones?” he called over his shoulder.

"To the left," Peepers told him. "All the way on the end. I put them somewhere safe. Don't want the good stuff to get ruined by grubby hands."

Growling playfully, Hater poked his head out. "I don't have grubby hands!"

"Who said it was you? Tim spends more time in that closet than both of us combined. He tracks in all kinds of dirt and germs." Peepers shuddered. "I love him to bits, but he's a walking disaster."

"Yeah, I gotta agree with you there." Hater snorted. He staggered out of the closet, his arms full of possibilities. “What d’you think? Dragon?” He held it up for inspection. Squinted at the fabric. “Or snake?”

Peepers shook his eye emphatically. “Neither,” he said. “Keep looking.”

Hater rolled his eyes and threw the rejected cloaks on the bed. “Speak for yourself, I like the dragon,” he muttered.

“I heard that,” Peepers said. “Next you’ll be asking about the golden armor.”

“Well, it _is_ shiny…” Grinning, Hater pulled a face of mock concertation, knitting his eyebrows together. He tapped his chin, as if giving it serious thought.

“No way,” Peepers chuckled affectionately. “Don’t even think about it.”

Hater playfully rolled his eyes and resumed digging. “Flames?”

“Put it aside as a maybe,” Peepers said after a short pause. “I think we can do better. But if we can’t, it’ll have to do.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Peeps,” Hater muttered under his breath. “Really helping me out here.”

“I have total confidence in your ability to knock Awesome flying.” Peepers spoke calmly. No trace of bitterness or sarcasm. “I just want you to look halfway decent. You’re going up against the king of tacky,” Peepers reminded him. His tone was scathing. “Armbands, feather boas? Please. My Hatey doesn’t do tacky. The Lord Hater I know would never back down from a fight. And that’s the Lord Hater I fell in love with.”

Hater stopped looking and glanced at the phone in his palm. Peepers was smiling. The look was so warm, so genuine, so…Peepers. A shiver of pleasure rippled down Hater’s spine. “Let’s pick one out,” Peepers said. "Hey, Hater, can you promise me something?"

There was a tightness in his tone Hater didn't like. He stopped digging. He straightened up, his brow furrowed. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Anything, Peeps. Just name it. What's up?" 

A shuddering sigh shook the tiny body. “Be careful,” Peepers begged him. “I don’t wanna lose you. Not again.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” Hater said, his voice unusually soft. “I’ll be on the lookout. Promise.”

Peepers nodded tremulously and wiped his eye.

“C’mon, Peeps, don’t be like that.” Hater said. He spoke very gently. “I’ll be fine. Best friends don’t lie.” He hooked his thumb around the chain and pulled out the locket.

Peepers sniffled. One hand gipped the lump under his uniform. “Best friends,” he agreed. “Always.”

Hater chuckled quietly. _My Peepers._

A million things flashed through Hater’s mind. How grateful he was to still be together. _How much I missed you._

“Thanks, Peepers,” he said.

“What for?” Peepers looked confused.

“For giving me another chance. _Us_ another chance.” Hater cleared his throat. His face glowed fluorescent green. Something suddenly occurred to him.“We never broke up, did we? I mean, officially.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Peepers shook his eye.

Hater huffed. “Good. Cause I don’t wanna.”

“Absolutely not,” Peepers agreed. “Enough messing around, big guy. Let’s get you semi-presentable.”

“I look fine,” Hater mumbled, half to himself.

“No offense, babe, nobody’s gonna take you seriously if you show up to a fight in your underwear.”

“Yeah. Guess you’re right," Hater admitted. A bit grudgingly. "Don’t rub it in,” he added.

The got a smile out of him. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Peepers said. “What are we down to for choices?”

It seemed like he’d gone through half the closet. Cloaks were scattered helter-skelter across the floor. Stifling a sigh, Hater knelt down and gathered a handful of clothes.

Peepers interrupted him. “Leave the mess, Awesome takes priority.”

Hater dropped the cloaks he was holding. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Peepers?”

“Ha, ha,” Peepers said, rolling his eye. “Very funny. We can tackle the laundry situation when I get home.”

“Never thought I’d see you refusing to clean something.” Hater waded through the discard pile. “You feelin’ OK?”

“Cloaks are replaceable,” Peepers said. There was no hesitation. No trace of embarrassment. “You’re not.”

Hater stopped sifting through the clothes. He blinked rapidly, banishing the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Thanks, Peeps. That…that means a lot,” he croaked. It felt like something was stuck in his throat.

“Of course. You’re special,” Peepers told him. “Never forget that.”

“I won’t,” Hater said. “Promise.” He grinned mischievously. “How could I not be special? I’m Lord Hater!”

Peepers laughed. “And that’s why I love you.”

“You’re special, too. You’re my whole world, Peepers,” Hater whispered.

He suddenly hesitated. If they didn’t stop all the gloopy-eyed mushy stuff, Awesome would be knocking the door down. There just wasn’t enough time. There was too much at stake.

Peepers seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Show me our contenders, we gotta get you ready.”

Hater nodded and spread the remaining cloaks on the bed. “Flames, or the skull?” He proffered each in turn, holding them in front of his bare ribcage. Peepers frowned in concentration. Flames, skull. Skull, flames.

“Skull,” they agreed.

With some jumping around and a little finagling, Hater managed to pull it over his head. “There,” he grunted as his skull popped through. “Whaddya think?”

“It’s on backwards,” Peepers said, barely hiding a smile.

Hater glanced down. _Huh._

Sure enough, the hood was hitting him in face. “Fair point,” he said. Muttering under his breath, Hater tucked his arms back in and spun it right-way around.

“That’s more like it.” Peepers beamed. “There’s my big, bad, electrical skeleton man.”

Hater puffed out his chest. A rumble of pleasure rose in his throat. For a second that spiraled into an eternity, they stared into each other’s eyes, whispering the same thing over and over again. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Hater went to close the phone. “Wait, wait, wait!" Peepers gasped. "Real quick!”

Shocked by his urgency, Hater almost dropped his cell. “What?”

“Phone kiss,” Peepers begged him. "Please? Just one."

Hater snorted with laughter. "You little goof." His voice trembled as he spoke. "OK, but just one."

The bony heart melted. Bringing the phone to his lips, he pecked the screen. Smiling, Peepers did the same on his end, complete with a playful “mwah,” just for effect.

 _He always does that._ Hater laughed softly. _So flarping cute. Oh, baby boy, you're the best!_

“Go on. Go beat him up,” Peepers said. “I believe in you,” he added.

Blowing his man one last kiss, Hater hung up. He stuffed the phone into his cloak and bolted for the hangar. _Time to take this fish down!_


	15. Chapter 15

Sylvia had done a decent job getting everything in order. Most of the army was packed in the hangar, blasters drawn. Wander strode among them, patting backs and whispering encouragement. He ran to catch up with Hater. They met Sylvia at the front.

“Nice cloak,” Wander whispered.

Hater flashed him a quick grin. “Thanks,” he whispered back. “My man’s got good taste.”He turned to Sylvia. “Am I late?”

“Not at all,” Sylvia assured him. Gold gauntlets encased her hands. The ones Peepers made for her when they invaded Dominator’s ship. She flexed her fingers. The metal glowed faintly.

Hater grinned. _Oh, Peeps, you’re brilliant!_

Wander wrung his hat in his hands. “Oh, I hope we don’t have to fight. I’d hate to see anyone get hurt.”

Over his head, Hater exchanged a look with Sylvia. No fighting? That was asking for a miracle. Whatever Awesome was doing, it couldn’t be good. He and Sylvia both knew that. The Watchdogs surrounding them knew that.

Sylvia hugged Wander very tightly. “Don’t worry, buddy,” she said reassuringly. Wander buried his face in her neck.

“Yeah, _we_ won’t be the ones gettin’ hurt.” Hater rolled his shoulders and performed his pre-battle calisthenics.

“Any idea what he wants?” Sylvia asked as Hater stretched.

“No clue,” Hater admitted. He stood on tiptoe, arching his spine and clasping his hands behind his horns. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“How’s Peepers?” Wander asked.

Hater grinned self-consciously. “He’s great. I told him to stay outta the way till this whole debacle’s taken care of.” He lapsed into a leg hold, standing on one foot and gripping the other femur one-handedly. “How far away is Awesome?”

The suspense didn’t last long. A horrified shout came from one of the Watchdogs up in the control room. “Brace yourselves!” he hollered. “He’s gonna ram us!”

The ship shuddered violently. Everyone lost their footing. Hater crashed to the ground with Wander and Sylvia on top of him. Watchdogs toppled like dominos. Weapons clattered across the floor. Hater staggered to his feet. The hangar was completely destroyed. Awesome’s limo had smashed a humongous hole right through the Skullship’s jaw and knocked several teeth out. A cold space breeze whistled across the silent crowd. Broken glass and bits of smashed teeth littered the black tile. Stars glittered on the wreckage.

Hater gaped. _All this damage! It’s gonna take forever to clean up this mess!_

The space limo had knocked most of the Watchdog ships aside. Alarms chirped and headlights flickered as the dorsal fin popped through the sunroof. “Knock, knock! Awesome’s here!” Cool and casual, Awesome leaned on the hood of his limo. His cape fluttered impressively in the breeze from the hole his ship had left in the wall behind them. “It’s just me and you, Hatester. I’m here to get my prize. Where’s my rock?”

_That stupid glowy rock? I don’t have it._

“What’s he talking about?” Sylvia hissed.

“The stupid rock he needs to win that stupid scavenger hunt,” Hater hissed back. “There’s other stuff on that list!”

“Yeah,” Wander called out to Awesome. “We’ll help you find it!”

Hater curled his lip. “Don’t bother. He’s too lazy to find anything else! It’s just me and him in the race.” When the others looked confused, he elaborated. “Peepers said he’s got some kinda power-draining battery. It killed every car back on the starting line. Eliminated everyone else.”

“Why do any work when you losers have it?” Awesome agreed with a shrug. “Too much effort. Why bother when I can easily take it from the dynamic duo? Gimme the rock, and I won’t kick your butt. Much. Besides, you owe me collateral, Hater! That little runt-”

“His name’s Peepers!” Hater spat through clenched teeth.

“Whatever,” Awesome sniffed. “Your little pipsqueak blew a circuit in my ship when he fired that gun. Engine doesn’t work anymore. So I’m gonna take that big, old rock as payback!” He stared around the hangar. “Speaking of which, I don't see him. Where’s the squeaky runt?”

Hater bared his teeth. “Mind your own business!”

Awesome’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, did the power couple split up?” he asked maliciously.

Hater’s skull burned red-hot. “Shut up!”

“Watch your mouth!” Sylvia ordered. She placed a reassuring hand on Hater’s quivering shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you,” she breathed. “He’s looking for an opening. Don’t give it to him!”

A growl rumbled in Hater’s chest. _Nobody makes fun of my man!_

While he snarled at Awesome, Wander slipped out from behind Sylvia. “Can’t we solve this nonviolently?” he asked. He approached Emperor Awesome, arms spread wide in supplication.

Hater nudged him back with a foot. “Butt out,” he muttered under his breath.

Behind him, Sylvia hissed. “Wander, no! Get back here!” She lashed her tail. It almost whapped Hater in the face. He ducked to avoid it. “Are you listening to me?” Sylvia’s voice was low and fierce. “Get back here, right now!”

Wander ignored her. “All this fuss over a silly rock. Let’s all be reasonable.”

Awesome eyed him sourly. “Dude, I came here to win. No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds. Cough it up!”

Not taking her eyes from Wander, Sylvia hissed, “The rock he's talking about, where is it?”

“I told ya,” Hater hissed back. “I don't know! I don’t have it!”

“You've gotta have some idea! Where was the last place you had it?” Sylvia asked urgently. “Think!”

“The van!” Hater moaned. “Peepers! He must’ve taken it with him!”

“Perhaps I can offer something just as valuable?” Wander stuffed his hand into the bottomless void that served for a hat. “Let’s see.”

Sylvia covered her eyes and groaned until her nostrils flared.

 _Is he serious?_ Hater couldn’t believe it. His jaw dropped. _Of all times. Why now?_

“Wait,” Wander said. He stood on one foot. “Wait, hang on…” Shoulder-deep in the hat, he rooted around, face screwed up, tongue sticking out. “Almost…I think I almost…”

The Watchdogs exchanged bewildered looks and huddled closer together. Hater could practically smell their fear. Sweat dripped down his vertebrae. Sylvia’s tail swished back and forth. The comblike tuft at the end whistled through the air. It created a breeze that ruffled Hater’s cloak.

 _Wander, come on!_ Hater gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. _You wandering weirdo, get outta there!_

“Aha!” With a dramatic flourish, Wander pulled out the substitute. “Ooh, nice!”

The silence in the hangar solidified. Everyone stared. It wasn’t a rock. Not even close. Hater couldn’t tell _what_ it was. It looked like a big marble. And it wasn’t even purple. It was flaming orange.

The Watchdogs started to panic. While the troops below him screamed, Awesome examined his nails. “Funny. Hilarious. Enough games, Hater. Where's the rock? The real one.”

Hater struggled to think up a convincing cover story. But quick thinking wasn’t his strong suit. That was Peepers’ territory.

Awesome’s eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “Wait, wait, wait. The runt’s got it, doesn’t he?” The words were laced with quiet fury.

Hater’s mouth was bone-dry. “No!”

“No matter,” Awesome spat. “I’ll take care of the runt later. Gotta teach you a lesson first.”

 _“Keep away from him!”_ Hater bellowed so loudly, the entire hangar fell silent. Quivering with fury, Hater bared his teeth at Awesome. "Don't you dare hurt my Peepers!"

As the Watchdogs resumed panicking, Wander and Sylvia stepped up beside him. One on each side."You wanna hurt my friends?!" Sylvia spat. She banged her fists together. The gauntlet clash rang out like a bell. "You gotta go through me first!"

"Please." Awesome raised an eyebrow."C'mon, Becks. Chill. Can't you and me go out for dinner or something? Ditch this loser and his army..."

 _Army!_ Hater stiffened. _Of course!_ “Watchdogs!” He forced himself to sound tough. Confident. The screaming stopped for a second. Every eye was fixed on him. Pleading, begging for direction. “Um, attack formation WF23!”

They stared at him, then at each other. Wide-eyed, lost in a swirl of panic and confusion. _Why aren’t they listening?!_ His spine went cold. _Peepers._ He handled everything.  _He didn’t tell me what to do! Without Peepers, I’m sunk!_

Hater racked his brain. “Go!” he bellowed. “Attack!” Nobody moved. Hater was getting desperate. “Go on! Sic ’em!” The screaming started back up. Watchdogs blundered into each other, milling around in circles and waving their arms.

 _How does he do it?! Ugh, fine! Whatever!_ Growling irritably, Hater summoned light into his fist. _Take care of it myself!_

Awesome sneered. “Pitiful.” His lip curled, revealing serrated teeth. “This is really the best you could do, dude? Fist Fighters, punch it!”

All hell broke loose. Fist Fighters hurled themselves on the panicking Watchdogs. Some tried to fight. The rest scattered. The Fist Fighters laughed derisively. There was a mad dash for the hangar door. Too many bodies crammed into too small space. They vanished into the hall, still screaming, with the Fist Fighters in hot pursuit. Hater winced. The galaxy’s mightiest army. Sent packing by Emperor Awesome’s ragtag troops. In their own ship. Pathetic. And over what? A stupid, shiny rock for the stupid race. 

Bones clattered as he glowered at Awesome. Trembling with fury, he pointed a glowing finger. “Get your stupid army off my ship and get outta here!” Spit flew from his teeth.

Awesome wasn’t impressed. He folded his arms and leaned casually on the sunroof. The last of his soldiers jumped out the ship and pounced on the few Watchdogs still trapped in the hangar. 

Comb bristling, Sylvia leapt into the fray. “Get lost,” she growled. “Stop attacking my optic nerds!”

She reared up, a swarm of Fist clinging to her like parasites. She sucked in her belly and bucked. They lost their grips and tumbled to the ground. Sylvia advanced on them. The Fist Fighters backed off. They didn’t want to get too close. Watchdogs were one thing. A bucking, thrashing Zbornak was something else. They fled. 

“Hey, get back here!” Sylvia shouted. She snorted in irritation. Rolling her eyes, she rocketed after the Fists, hollering over her shoulder, “Wander, come on! Help me!” 

The few Watchdogs the Fists had been wailing on staggered after her, shouting half-heartedly. "Hate's great! Best villain!"

Wander hesitated for the space of a heartbeat. “Wander!” Sylvia shouted.

“Don’t just stand there,” Hater hissed. He shoved Wander toward the open door. “Go help the others! I’m fine! Go on!”

Awesome started levering his body out of the sunroof. He got stuck halfway through. He wriggled furiously, trying to heave himself out. “But,” Wander stuttered. “But…”

“Don’t argue with me, Wander!" Hater snarled through gritted teeth. “I’m not losing another member of my family!”

Wander was taken aback. Tears popped into his eyes. “Oh, Hater that is so…”

“Predictable.” Awesome was out. He leaned in close, hands on his hips, his lips parted in a malicious sneer. “The nerd walks out on him, so he turns to the only other nerds he thinks are his friends. What a loser.”

Red-hot rage rose in his bones until Hater saw red. “You’re gonna be in a world of hurt when I get my hands on you!” he snarled. Roaring, he lashed out with a powerful shockwave. Awesome flew back a good ten feet. He crashed into his limo, denting the metal. Eyes rolling from the impact, Awesome swayed where he stood.

Fists still crackling, Hater rounded on Wander. “Get going, now! I'll take care of this!”

Wander didn’t wait to be told twice. Sneakers squeaking, he followed Sylvia, flapping his hands and yelling over the sounds of combat. “Hey, hey, hey! Easy with the punching! We can resolve this nonviolently if we all work together!”

Fury throbbed in Hater’s marrow. He bared his teeth. Flecks of foam dripped down his chin. He launched himself into the air and dove at Awesome. “Let’s rumba!”


	16. Chapter 16

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Mikey asked for the hundredth time.

“Yes,” Peepers snapped. He was driving this time. Speeding through the galaxy, hot on Hater’s trail. “Stop asking!”

Mikey sat low in the passenger seat, his eye huge. “What, you keep track of the coordinates on your phone?” he joked.

“A good Commander is always prepared,” Peepers replied.

 _You trying finding the Skullship after Hater goes on a joyride. I leave the keys behind_ one  _stinking time, and he goes missing._ The thought brought a smile to his retina. _I was gone ten, fifteen minutes, tops. Took me all night to find him._

Of course, he didn’t tell his brother that. They swerved around another planet. Mikey lost his balance and toppled under the dashboard. Peepers leaned into the turn, digging his nails deep into the steering wheel. He gritted his lower lid and slammed his foot on the gas.

Mikey glared at him from under the dashboard. “You drive like a space nut,” he grumbled, hoisting himself back into the seat.

“Thanks,” Peepers growled. “And buckle up.” The phone in his pocket pinged. Peepers plunged a fist into his uniform. “We need to go three miles east,” he said, squinting at the numbers. “And a quarter of a degree north.”

Mikey peeked over his shoulder. “You can read that?” He sounded amazed.

Shrugging, Peepers stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Stupid, I know, but-”

“Stupid?” Mikey echoed in disbelief. “Peepers, are you crazy? That’s flarping cool!”

Peepers flushed. “Thanks,” he muttered. “Comes in useful for planning invasions.”

They drove in silence for a little while. Peepers let his mind wander, thinking back. Planning invasions was an all-night thing. Empty bottles of soda and half-eaten slices of pizza were everywhere.

Peepers remembered with a pang how exhausted he’d been. Almost on the edge of collapse. “Can’t we finish this later?” he’d begged.

“No way!” Hater was on a sugar rush. “Peepers, c’mon,” he complained. “We can still knock out a few more moves!”

Peepers chuckled _. I’m usually the one begging for more thinking time._

The memory of Hater, face lit up, all smiles, brought a lump to the Watchdog’s throat. He’d been so excited to strategize with his man. They had stayed holed up in the conference room all night, pretending to plan. Peepers resting on Hater’s broad shoulder, pointing out on the grid how the enemy’s left flank would be cut off from the main force.

Of course, the plans hadn’t worked out like that. They had failed. And miserably. But it had still been a blast to sit down and brainstorm. Peepers grinned. They’d fallen asleep on the table. A piece of pizza had stuck to Hater’s horn.

Mikey’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Look, somebody’s having a party,” he said from far, far away.

Peepers shook himself. “What?” There, straight ahead, was the Skullship. “Whaddaya mean, a party?”

“See the limo?” Mikey said, pointing.

 _No._ Peepers sat straight up, terror clawing at his chest. _No, no, no! He beat us here? I thought we had more time!_

“Hang on!” Peepers snarled. He smashed his heel down. They rocketed forward, and the Skullship erupted in screams.

_Was that Hater?_

Sweating, Peepers fought to stay calm. Hoping against hope it wasn’t too late. That Hater was safe. He used Mikey’s car like a battering ram, knocking a tooth clean out of the Skullship’s mouth. They fell into the hanger, rolling over twice and landing upright in a parking space.

“And _that_ ,” Peepers panted, “is why we wear seatbelts. You OK?”

“Yeah.” Mikey fumbled with the buckle tethering him to the seat. “Yeah, I’m OK.”

Peepers gripped his shoulder. _Good old Mikey._

Hideous cries rang through the open doors. Blaster fires. Roars of enemy troops as Fist Fighter fought Watchdog. The hangar was completely deserted. No sign of Awesome. Or Hater.

Anxiety rumbled in the Commander’s stomach. _Be safe._ Peepers shook himself. _No time to get sidetracked. I need to focus._

“So, what’s the plan?” Mikey asked. He was trembling. _He’s never seen serious action before,_ Peepers realized.

He grabbed Mikey’s shoulder. “Listen to me.” Mike was still shaking like a leaf in a storm. Peepers snapped his fingers. “Listen to me! Stay close. Whatever you do, stay close to me. We’re gonna go in there, find Hater, and send Awesome packing!”

Still shaking, Mikey bobbed his eye. “OK,” he said. “OK.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Peepers assured him. “Got it? You’re gonna be just fine.”

It took two agonizing minutes for Mike to find and regain his composure. Peepers tried not to let his frustration show. It wouldn’t do him any good to bring _another_ panicking Watchdog into whatever mess was waiting in the hall.

Finally, Mikey straightened his spine. Grim-eyed, he threw Peepers a brisk salute. “What’s the plan?”

“We need something to drive them off,” he said. “Get rid of Awesome, his army will follow.” He stared wildly around the empty hangar. Nothing in here but overturned Eyefighter jets and Awesome’s hideous limo. “Wait here!”

Miraculously, Hater’s van was still upright. And, more importantly, unlocked. It looked good as new. All the damage from Awesome’s laser wiped clean. The dent was gone. Peepers was impressed. It was perfect. Utterly pristine.

Peepers ran a hand over the faded paint. All the familiar signs. Nostalgia clouded his vision. _It’s great to be home._ He pulled himself together. _No time to be sappy. I didn’t come all the way back to for nothing!_

He scrabbled under the passenger’s seat, rifling through the mulch of old candy wrappers and crumpled-up bits of paper. _There it is! Right where I left it._

Mikey’s eye bulged. “That’s huge!” he gasped.

Peepers cocked the blaster. The sinister hum was wonderfully reassuring. Peepers smiled grimly. Flexing his fingers, he gripped his weapon tight. “Stick close,” he told his brother. “This is gonna get messy.”

Side by side, they thundered into the chaos. Watchdogs and Fists were locked in violent tussles all over the hall. Peepers jerked Mikey down. A lose shot just missed them, leaving a smoking hole in the wall. Coughing, they crawled away from the scorched metal on hands and knees. The ship Peepers knew like the back of his hand had been plunged into chaos. Hater was nowhere to be seen.

 _Where is he?_ Peepers stared helplessly into the combat.  _Where is he?!_

A Fist Fighter flew at them with a horrible roar. Peepers reacted instinctively, dropping flat and tripping the oncoming soldier with his body. Mikey ducked just in time. The Fist staggered to his feet and rushed them again. 

A snarl burned in Peepers’ throat. “Hold this,” he growled, and shoved the blaster at Mikey.

Blood boiling, Peepers dropped to a crouch and punched the enemy twice, two jabs straight to the stomach. He collapsed with a terrific gasp, clutching his gut. A swift kick sent the Fist Fighter packing. Still doubled-up, he staggered away, whimpering. He made it halfway down the hall when a tangle of black legs pounced on him.

Peepers stared. Mikey bumped into him. He seized Peepers by the shoulder and shook him.“What’s the holdup? Let's get outta here!”

Instead of replying, Peepers whistled sharply. Tim cocked his head to the side. Peepers whistled again, louder this time. He dropped the blaster and opened his arms. “Here, boy!”

Helmet or not, Tim recognized the voice. He broke away from his squealing victim and ran to Peepers, screeching jubilantly. Peepers wrestled with him, scratching the shaggy fur and avoiding the shower of acid. Tim licked him aggressively, drenching him in slime. Peepers hugged him tightly. Acid aside, he’d never been happier to see the Arachnomorph.“I missed you, too, Tim,” he whispered into the prickly fur. Tim purred and returned the sentiment with a brisk swipe of his glistening tongue.

“Peepers! Look out!” Mikey hollered.

Somebody seized Peepers from behind. Tim fell to the ground. Peepers grunted and struggled to get loose. Two hairy arms him fast. Peepers scrabbled in the suffocating embrace, feeling for the blaster for his boot. It took him a second to realize this wasn’t a chokehold. It was a hug!

 _Who stops for hugs in the middle of a battle?_ Peepers relaxed. _I should’ve known!_

“Thank Grop, Wander, it’s you!” he gasped. The words came out a little muffled. The grip on his windpipe was so tight.

“Syl, Syl!” Wander shouted deafeningly. “Look who’s back!” Static rose from the orange fur and rippled uncomfortably over the Watchdog’s chest. “Where have you been?” Wander demanded. “When did you get here? And who's your friend?”

Peepers backed off, rubbing his aching ribs. “It’s a long story.”

“Tell us later.” Sylvia’s long tail shot out, pulling Peepers into a vicelike hug. “We've got a fight to win.”

Peepers took the hint. The Fists outnumbered the Watchdogs at least two to one. The army he’d trained so rigidly was being beaten, destroyed, by Awesome’s pathetic minions. His troops fought half-heartedly. Completely disorganized. Half of them were huddled against the walls, sobbing into their gloves. All the fight was gone. Their fire extinguished.

This had gone far enough. Peepers cocked the blaster. His blood boiled until he saw red.  _I didn’t come back to lose to Awesome!_

“Watchdogs, eyes up!” he roared.

All around him, troops froze. The shouting stopped. Silence fell across the scene. He saw the recognition in their eyes. Gasps of joy and relief greeted his return. Every Watchdog straightened up, coming to attention. Like oil and water, the armies separated. The Watchdogs grouped behind their Commander. Mikey, Wander, and Sylvia took up positions, forming a circle around him.

As one, they rounded on the intruders. The Fists took a few halting steps back. They huddled together in a nervous clot. “Not so tough now, are you?” Peepers snarled.

No one replied. Their knocking limbs were answer enough. 

The army started forward. Their anger was palpable. Sylvia advanced with them. She balled her gauntleted hands into gleaming fists. Struggling to keep his own temper in check, Peepers held up a hand. “Not yet.”

Obviously reluctant, everyone stopped. Angry or not, they remained loyal. They waited for the signal, backs straight, heels together. Peepers saw the delight in their eyes change to cold purpose. Pride swelled his chest.

He pointed a finger at the quaking Fist Fighters. “Allow me to explain something to you, gentlemen. This is _my_ ship. And on _my_ ship, we do things _my_ way. Wake up at six, breakfast at seven, basic training till nine, duties at ten. But it’s not all regimented routine. We like to have fun. Don’t we?” 

The Watchdogs snickered. They elbowed each other and exchanged knowing glances. 

“You wanna play games with my army?” Peepers asked. He smiled broadly. The Fists retreated several more feet. “You wanna come in here, on _my_ ship, and make sport of _my_ guys? Let’s see how you like it. I know a game we can _all_ play.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Mikey shot him a questioning glance. “You wanna play a game with these sickos?”

“Guess Wander’s really rubbed off on me.” Peepers winked, and Wander beamed. Even Sylvia grinned a little. “Trust me, bro. I know what I’m doing.” Peepers patted his thigh and whistled. “Captain Tim!”

Tim instantly appeared at his side, all his hair standing on end. The Fists retreated even more. Peepers followed, matching each backward step. Tim kept pace with him, his snarl deepening. They advanced, step by step, closing the gap. “Let’s have a bit of fun, shall we?” Peepers hefted the blaster across one shoulder and scratched the prickly head with his free hand. “See, Tim here _loves_ to play games. You wanna know his favorite?” he whispered teasingly.

Tim arched his back and salivated. He wound around Peepers, purring. Drool splattered over his boots. Nobody moved or spoke. Every eye was fixed on the circling spider. His body vibrated with excitement. The Fist Fighters whimpered fitfully. 

Peepers let the uncomfortable silence stretch out for five long seconds. Without raising his voice, he pointed at the invaders. “Tim, fetch.” 

Tim shot forward with a blood-curdling screech. The Fists ran for it, with Tim in hot pursuit. “Give him a three-second head start,” Peepers said to the others. He smiled indulgently.  “He’s earned it.”

He held up his fingers and dropped them, one by one. Three. Two. One. 

“Watchdogs, I want a full assault! Eyes up!” Bellowing the war cry, Peepers led his troops in. “Hate’s great, best villain!” 

With their Commander in the lead, the Watchdog army stampeded down the hall, forcing the intruders to scatter. “That’s it! Run, you sweaty-palmed cowards!” Peepers bellowed. “All of you! Get out, now!”

 _Pathetic_. Awesome obviously hadn’t done a good job. These jelly-backed soldiers were nothing short of abysmal. “Let’s show them what trained army looks like!” Peepers thundered. “Split up. I want teams of ten on every level. Every last level, got it? Flush those Fistfighters out! Get going!”

His troops let out a roar of approval. They surged forward, doubling the pace, still chanting. “Hate’s great! Best villain!”

They surged ahead, overtaking him, howling for blood. Peepers let them go. He slumped back on his haunches, breathing hard. Mikey caught up with him. He stood tall, chest puffed out, his eye full of battle light. “Lemme at ’em,” he growled. “I’ll take ’em on!” He stopped smiling. “Peepers, look out!”

Peepers shoved his brother behind him, expecting the worst. “Wander!” Delight raised the pitch of his voice. “Sylvia!” 

His friends had stayed behind for a proper greeting. The pride in their eyes was tangible. Peepers sidestepped Mikey and met them with open arms.  Sylvia crossed the room in two strides and rested her snout on his retina. Wander didn’t hold back. His embrace was strangling. They hugged each other very tightly. Sylvia almost crushed his ribs. Wander’s goofy hat flopped into his eye. But Peepers didn’t care. The sight of two friendly faces was worth a sore ribcage any day.

Wander was squeezing the life out of him. “That was amazing! How do you do it?” Peepers fought to answer. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs. “We couldn't do anything, those poor Watchdogs were a mess before you showed up,” Wander babbled. “Peepers, welcome home! We’ve missed you!”

“Stop throttling him,” Sylvia said. She pulled them apart with a chuckle. “Long time, no see.”

Peepers beamed at her, massaging his ribs. “Hey, Zbornak,“ he puffed. He patted the scaly back. She was battered and bruised. The saddle was tangled. One rein twisted and frayed.“That's a good look on you,“ he said sarcastically. “Glad to see you kept everything under control. A full-scale invasion. Great job.”

“Thanks, nerd.” Sylvia gave him another hug. Her eyes spared with wicked amusement. “Don't wander off next time, and maybe things won't fall apart.”

The laughter faded from his eye. “Seriously, though, you guys did good,” Peepers said. “I’m proud of you. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime. Now, will you _please_ introduce us? Who’s this?” Wander asked. He indicated Mikey. “A friend of yours?”

“My brother,” Peepers said proudly. “Mikey, this is Wander, and that’s Sylvia.”

Rather than stepping up, Mikey took a pace back. He eyed the others warily. “The same Wander and Sylvia that always manage to ruin your plans? The number one enemies of the Hater Empire? I thought you guys hated each other!” His eye narrowed. “What changed?”

Peepers exchanged a long glance with Wander and Sylvia. “I’ll explain some other time,” he finally said. “Trust me, they’re friends. And good ones.”

Without hesitation, Mikey extended his hand. “If Peepers says you’re his friends, that’s good enough for me,” he said, and they exchanged handshakes. “And no one’s harder to impress than my big bro.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sylvia said graciously. Eyes shining, she socked Peepers lightly on the arm. “You sure he’s your brother? He’s much better looking.”

Mikey shuffled his feet awkwardly. Wander patted him on the arm. “Don't worry, she's just teasing.” He beamed at Peepers. “Speaking of looking, Hater’s gonna be glad to see you,” Wander gushed. “I can't wait to see the look on his face!”

“Hater!” Peepers shouted. “I completely forgot! Where is he?! Is he OK?!”

Sylvia’s eyes darkened. She pointed in the other direction and summed it up in one word. “Awesome.”

Peepers stiffened. “Where did they go?”

Sylvia pointed up at the ceiling. “We lost sight of them after they left the hangar. I think they were heading toward the throne room.”

Peepers didn’t hesitate.“We gotta spilt up. Wander, Sylvia, go with the Watchdogs and round up any loose Fist Fighters you find. Corral them in the hangar.” He gripped Mikey’s shoulder until his knuckles stood out. “Listen to me! Stay with them. Be careful!” His gaze swept over the aliens he loved. “All of you.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes and noogied Peepers affectionately. “Don’t worry, we will.”

“But…” Mikey struggled to summon a counterargument.

“Don’t argue!” Peepers snapped. “Just go with Wander and Sylvia. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. I’ll meet you in the hangar.”

Mikey still looked doubtful. Wander, however, threw Peepers a smart salute, clicking his heels together. “Aye, Commander Peepers, sir!”

Peepers smiled, in spite of himself. “Go on! And be careful!”

“You, too!” Mikey said. “I don’t wanna bring any bad news to Ma!”

“Don't worry, he's a regular little firebrand, especially when it comes to Hater. He'll be fine. If anything, you should be worried about Awesome.” Sylvia said reassuringly and pushed Mikey along. “Let’s get a move on, or we’ll miss all the fun!”

They were almost around the corner when Peepers remembered. “Mike, hold up!” Puffing, Peepers ran to catch up and handed over the blaster. “Take this.”

“Whoa!” Mikey grunted and staggered under the heavy weight. Wander steadied him. Together, they hefted the cumbersome weapon. “You sure?”

“Trust me,” Peepers growled. His anger made the words tight. “I won’t need it.”

“Good luck!” Wander called after him.

“Give Awesome a good punch for the Duchess and the Lady Haymaker!” Sylvia added. “Good hunting, Commander.”

Peepers nodded once, squared his shoulders, and rocketed off in the opposite direction.  _Hang on, Hater! I’m coming! If Awesome’s laid a finger on you, I’ll throttle him!_


	17. Chapter 17

Hater shook the sweat from his vision and squinted through a haze of pain until the two shimmering Emperor Awesomes swimming in front of him solidified. Torchlight flickered and popped in the silent throne room, casting neon shadows over the black tile. They glared at each other, chests heaving as they slobbered and panted for breath. A temporary stalemate.

Huddled against the opposite wall, Awesome pointed at him with a suspiciously twisted finger. Hater thought he’d broken it. Or at least dislocated it. One could only hope. “Is that all you got?” he asked between wheezes. “You’re losing your edge!”

“Shut up,” Hater growled. The words came out muffled; his teeth were gritted so tight.

“Real shame Pipsqueak’s missing all the fun,” Awesome taunted.

An inarticulate rasp of rage exploded in Hater’s throat and burst in a shower of foaming spit. He lunged forward, slapping the tile with a glowing fist. Lightning zigzagged across the floor and knocked a squealing Awesome flat on his dorsal fin. The cape fell into his eyes.

Still on his back, Awesome clawed the shredded cape out of his face. “Lucky shot,” he muttered.

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” Hater spat back. “Practice makes perfect!”

“I’ll bet your precious little pipsqueak taught you that,” Awesome grumbled, picking himself up.

Hater grinned. “Yeah, he did! And guess what? He also taught me how to do this!”

Still grinning, Hater threw himself into a barrel roll. At the last second, he sprang into a handstand, putting all his weight on his fingertips and slamming his heels into Awesome’s chin. Awesome crashed to the ground. A geyser of blood burst from his mouth and splashed into his eyes.

Coughing wetly, Awesome scrambled to his feet. A spectacular bruise was blossoming just under his bottom lip. “Very nice,” he said, wiping his dripping face. “And where is he now?” The smile dropped from Hater’s face. “Oh, that’s right. He’s gone. Nice going, genius.”

White-hot rage clawed at Hater’s chest. His hands balled into fists. “Shut up.”

Awesome’s eyes flashed with wicked glee. “Shame. You two losers made quite the team. What happened?”

A growl rumbled in Hater’s chest. “Shut up!”

“Ooh, touched a nerve. What did you do, Hater? Must’ve been bad to break up the dream team.”

The heat rose in Hater’s face, making his skull glow bright green. “Shut up!”

Awesome pretended to pout. His simpering lisp grated on Hater’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “Aw, wittle wunt’s wun away.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his cheek. “So sad.”

Hater sprang at him, roaring. They crashed into each other and toppled sideways, kicking and cursing.

“Keep your fat mouth shut about my man!”

“Oh-ho, you miss him, don’t you?”

Flecks of spit flew into Hater’s eyes. His concentration slipped for a fatal second. Awesome seized the opening, flipping the skeleton over his head. Hater landed awkwardly against the throne, all the breath knocked out of his body.

Eyes flickering in the torchlight, Awesome advanced on him. “I’m gonna get that rock, come hell or high water!” He brought his foot back. “But first, I’m gonna teach you and your runty little friend not to screw with me again!” Awesome drove his boot into Hater’s side. One of his ribs splintered. “This is for wrecking my limo!” Hater arched his back in agony. “And this is for stealing the rock I need to win!” Another devastating kick to the spine sent Hater skidding across the floor.

Summoning his strength, Hater heaved himself, gasping, to all fours. He rolled over, placing his back to the throne. He snuck a hand behind his back and ran it along the throne, feeling for the hidden switch that was his one and only chance.

“Pathetic,” Awesome sneered. “Greatest in the Galaxy. Please. What a joke. A washed-up villain and a love-struck runt. You dorks deserve each other.”

Hater’s face twisted into a venomous snarl. Awesome actually took a step back. “At least I’m happy,” he retorted. “You wouldn’t know happy if it sat up and bit you. There’s two of us. All you’ve got is your reflection!”

Under the bruises, Awesome’s cheeks reddened. Hater grinned. “That’s the problem with you, Awesome. You’re alone! No friends. No focus. No point! Just you and your feather boas! Peepers was right. A failure and a fake covered in a bunch of glitter!”

Eyes bulging, Awesome choked and spluttered.

Hater's fingers scuttled up and down the throne, searching, probing. “There’s more to being a villain than presentation and blowing stuff up,” he said, not taking his eyes from Awesome's. “There’s gotta be something under the hood. Substance. Meaning. And that’s what’s missing.” He couldn’t keep the pride out of his words. “You wanna know why I’m so great? I’ve got something you don’t. Something you’ll never have! A family. People who love me,” Hater growled. He fumbled behind his back, searching. “I’ve got Peepers!”

Awesome found his voice. Going purple in the face, he screamed, “Face it, without you, he’s worthless! Less than worthless. He’s nothing!”

Hater found the switch. “No, you’ve got it backwards,” he spat. “I’m nothing without him!”

Behind him, a section of wall slid up. A hidden panel. Distracted, Awesome turned to look. Hater seized his chance. Hurling Awesome aside, he dove headfirst into the secret hallway. The hydraulics hissed shut.

Awesome pounded on the secret panel. The reinforced steel held firm. “Get back here! You can’t hide in there forever!”

Alone in the dark, Hater rested his head on the wall, struggling to get his breathing under control. _I’m not hiding. I’m taking a strategic break._

He remembered all too well what Peepers had said as they went over the plans. One hand on the blueprints, Peepers jabbed him firmly in the chest. “Secret switch behind the throne. Trust me, it’ll save your life one day.”

Of course, Hater brushed it off. But Peepers, using that big, beautiful brain, installed it anyway. Making a mental note to thank his genius with a great big kiss, Hater slumped against the wall, breathing raggedly. Each inhale brought a fresh wave of pain. Hater screwed up his face and swallowed a hiss of agony. Every inch of him throbbed from Awesome’s beatdown.

 _At least Peeps ain’t here. Grop, I miss him._ Hater covered his eyes. At first, he thought he was hearing things. He took his hand away from his face. _Maybe it’s interfering with sound waves. That’s a thing, right?_

He listened, hard. No doubt about it. Someone was pounding down the secret tunnel. Only one other person knew about it. Would think to check back here. _No way. No flipping way._

Clutching the wall for support, Hater staggered upright. “Ungh, my head.” Blinking, he whispered loudly into the darkness. “Peepers?”

Hope flared in his chest. And he despised it. _I’m just imagining things. Gotta be._

The frantic patter increased. Someone was heading right for him. Screaming his name.

Hater straightened up, hardly daring to believe it. The bubble of hope grew before he could stop it, blossomed, flooded his bones with light, banishing the throbbing ache in his marrow. “Peepers?” 

He came skidding around the corner. Helmetless, but unmistakable.

Heart in his throat, Hater started running, arms outstretched. His voice went up a full octave.  _“Peepers!”_

Laughing, Peepers took the last ten feet at a gallop and hurled himself into Hater's waiting arms. They met in a rush. Caught in a tangle of arms and legs, they went down in a jumble. They somersaulted, hugging fiercely. 

With tears in his eyes, Hater wrestled him. Tiny fingers latched around his neck, holding him so tight, he swore his ribs would crack. “Peepers! Thank Grop!” Aches and pains forgotten, Hater snuggled his Watchdog, running his fingers over his shoulders and back, checking and double-checking for bumps and bruises. “Ha-ha! Peepers, you’re back! I missed you so flarping much! Come here, baby, gimme a kiss!”

Seizing his hood, Peepers pulled him into a kiss so deep, it made the infinite abyss of space seem puny. They broke apart, breathing hard. Peepers smiled. There was so much warmth in his expression, it sent a chill down Hater’s spine. 

“One of these days, I’m gonna get lost in those big green eyes.” Holding his skull in both hands, Peepers stood on tiptoe and kissed the top of his head. His fingers dug into Hater’s shoulder blades. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re OK,” he whispered. “You're OK. I really, really missed you.” Peepers pushed his retina to Hater’s battered cheek. There was a sob in his voice. “You have no idea how much I missed you, big fella.”

“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Hater said dryly, giving him an extra-tight squeeze. “It’s great to see you, Peeps. But what are you _doing_ here? Thought I told you to stay put. Not that I’m complaining,” he added quickly.

“Like I’d sit this one out.” Peepers squinched up his lids and gave Hater’s horn a playful flick. “You can’t have all the fun.” He found the rips in the cloak, and his expression hardened. “I’m gonna splatter bits of him all over the place,” Peepers hissed, so violently, Hater had to smile. _There’s the Peeps I know and love._

“You didn’t miss much,” Hater assured him. “The hidden switch really killed the vibe. Smart thinking, installing a secret hallway.”

Peepers laughed and pushed his retina to Hater’s forehead. “Glad to see it came in handy.”

“Oh, yeah. Big time.” Hater grinned crookedly and jostled him playfully. “It sure pays to be dating a genius. That reminds me.” Hater bundled him up and gave him a huge, smacking kiss. “Thanks for saving my life, you beautiful brainiac.”

Eye met bone, and they snuggled. Something clinked. Their lockets had twined together. The golden chains were tangled, and the charms were perfectly meshed. Joined. Reunited. Just like the two halves of their hearts. Together again. Best Buds. Peepers smiled faintly and pressed his retina to Hater's cheek. Without the weighty helmet, it was soft and tender and unbelievably wonderful. Hater closed his eyes, drinking in the featherlike pressure. _All this anger. All this pain. And he still loves me._

“You’re amazing, Peeps,” he murmured. “I’m never letting you go again.”

Peepers went scarlet. “Save the flattery, big fella. We’ve got a mackerel to mangle.”

Hater laughed. He bowed respectfully, gesturing to the hidden panel. “May I have this fight?” His eyes sparkled. _“Commander?”_

Peepers returned the bow, cracking his knuckles. “My pleasure, _Lord Hater_.”


End file.
